The Road to Recovery
by Jamie Sommers
Summary: REWRITE! The war is over. Katniss has been banished to District Twelve and her mentor Haymitch Abernathy is left to watch over her, but it's Peeta that finds his way into her life. How will Katniss and Peeta take that jump into the unknown emotion of love without an entire country watching? And will Katniss' temporary custodian Gale jeopardize the relationship they do build?
1. For Prim's Sake

Chapter 1: Trying for Prim's Sake

Chapter Text

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter One: Trying For Prim's Sake**

**There are a million and one stories out there about Peeta and Katniss finding their way back to each other. In my mind Suzanne Collins decided the readers could leaving it up to their imaginations and create their own "growing back together" tale. To me, this is how the story should have gone. Well, it's how it happened in my imagination anyway. I do hope you like it and if you want the rated M version, go to my tumblr page and look for the link and check it out. It's much more detailed and has a bunch of missing things this teen rated one doesn't. If you want to ruin the end, go ahead an read this entire story, but the new and updated version will be sooooooooooo much better. my tumblr name is jamiesommers23**

**The Road to Recovery**

_"You'll try?_" I hear Prim's question fading with the rise of the sun through my window. My eyelids opened and I stared at my bedroom ceiling. I thought of Peeta.

"I'll try, Prim." Today was the day I was going to ask if he would like to help me with my book. We hadn't spoken much lately, but I knew he had been in my house. I could smell his bread everyday when I got home from hunting, whether there was a loaf left or not. Today I would try to put things right with Peeta. Though I had no clue how to do that, I had to make a first step and since I really did need his help with the book, this was the perfect time to mend our friendship. _Yes. My friend. The baker's son. I missed him_.

I threw my legs over the side of the bed and sat up. I didn't even know what time it was, but I could smell the food cooking in the kitchen. This was my signal to take a shower and get dressed.

As I walked downstairs I could hear two voices. One of them said goodbye, Greasy Sae, and the door closed. The other, Peeta, lets out a little bit of a startled gasp, but not too much. _Wouldn't want to give away your position in the Game. If I'd been hunting you, you'd be dead already. _I quickly pushed that thought to furthest corners of my mind as the mere idea made me want to puke up the breakfast I hadn't even eaten yet.

"Hi," Peeta said in his gentle tone. "I was just leaving you some bread."

"I could smell it." I tried to smile, but I just couldn't find one. Again I hear Prim in the back of my mind asking me to try. My eyes closed and I took a deep breath in and let it out.

Peeta must have taken this as a sign of displeasure because he said, "Well, I'll let myself out."

"No!" I snapped at him. Once again I took a deep breath, this time leaving my eyes open. "Please. Stay." That's all I could manage to get out. _This is harder than I thought._

Peeta's eyes squinted as he gave me a once over and then shrugged his shoulders, "Okay. Sae made enough for two anyway."

The breath, I did not realize I was holding inside of my lungs, was finally released. I allowed myself to relax a little and went into the kitchen to get a plate of food and a slice of bread.

Peeta layered some jam on our slices of bread and I poured our cups of tea. I found the tea to be soothing to my stomach so eating breakfast wasn't as much of a chore as I thought it would be.

Peeta was full of conversation. He spoke of inconsequential things. Who's selling what in the market. Who has come back to the district. Who is new to the district. When he began to speak of his paints and how he's having a difficult time finding the correct mixture for a particular shade of gold, I think of Cinna's eyeliner and the glint it gave to his eyes. This snapped me out of my stupor and brought me back to my current reality. The book.

"So you're painting again?" I asked him.

"I'm trying to, but like I said, I can't seem to get the right shade of paint."

"Yes. Gold."

"Mmmm…" He shakes his head and makes a gesture with his fork. "Not just any gold. There's a certain color that's in my mind and I haven't been able to get it quite right yet."

"That's important to you, isn't it?" I asked him. I know it is. That's when I could see sweetness in Peeta's eyes and I remembered a tale he told to a morphling from District 6, the one who sacrificed her life to save his, about the days he spent trying to find the perfect shade of yellow. Like a flash the image was as vivid and real to me as though it were happening in front of my eyes and then it was gone.

"I'm no different than any other artist I suppose. When you have a picture of something in your head, you want it to be perfect. Like when you asked me to draw those berries in your book. Remember?"

I nodded. The book. _I need to ask you about the book_.

"You told me that the picture had to be perfect because if it was wrong it could-" he let the thought trail off.

"Kill someone," I finished it for him.

"Yes."

The thought of deadly berries filled my mind. Nightlock. The first time I came across them was in the woods. My father slapped them out of my hand and told me, _"Not these Katniss-"_ Suddenly the silence was deafening and the ringing in my ears began to get louder and louder. The room felt so big. Like one of the Capitol dining halls. My heart began to pound and the sound echoed in my chest, joining the ringing in my ears.

"It has to be perfect. It has to be perfect! It has to be perfect!" I hear this being screamed at me over and over. I blinked a few times trying to focus on my father telling me to make sure the pictures are perfect, but it's not my father's voice I heard in my head. It's Peeta's at my kitchen table.

I shook my head to clear away the cobwebs and looked at him, "What are you screaming about?"

The smile across his face shows relief. "I said," his voice is tender now. "The shade has to be perfect for the picture I want to paint."

_This is it. This is where I try, Prim_. _This is where I try to fix things._ "Speaking of pictures. I have this idea about a book." I tell him what I told the doctor and show him the blank book the doctor sent me from the Capitol. "I was wondering if you would be interested in helping me with it? Sort of fill in the pages and stuff?"

"Of course I would, Katniss." I could hear something in his voice. Something that had been missing for quite some time. Hope.

…

…

…

…

…

I awoke this morning with a pain in my belly. The need for food. This was something I hadn't felt for quite some time and it brought a happy memory to mind. One I would share with Peeta today as we worked on the book. I prepared myself for the day, showered, changed, brushed my teeth and braided my hair. As I headed down the stairs I noticed how quiet my kitchen was today. No Greasy Sae. No Peeta. No one but me. I wasn't sad, but I wasn't happy either. I was just alone. I looked into the living room and still no one. The study is closed; I leave it that way for now as the stench of roses still lingers within that room and brings up horrible memories. I just stand there in the middle of my house and look around. For the first time since being back I feel like I am in total solitude. I'm used to being alone in the afternoons and the evening, but I'm normally woken up by Greasy Sae's food. Being alone in the early morning hours has an almost chilling effect on me. My skin is tingling at the base of my neck and there he is. Peeta. Lying in a cold cave. In the early morning hours. Blood poisoning threatening to take his life. I can hear the sound of the woods echoing outside of our little shelter and I am frozen in time.

The fear of losing him is so overwhelming, I'm petrified. I know I must go to the feast to retrieve his medication, but I'm unable to move. All I can do is watch him die. I keep willing myself to move, but my body is set in stone. _Dear God! Don't die! Please don't die, Peeta! Don't leave me here!_

"Katniss?" Peeta calls out to me. "Please? Please?" He's begging me now. "I'm fine, Katniss. I'm fine."

I turn my head and open my eyes to find his warm eyes and worried brow focusing on me.

"Hi," he speaks so gently I can feel the concern in his voice.

"Hi." I'm unsure of where I am, but I know where I'm not. I am no longer in the middle of the arena fighting for our lives. I am no longer in a secluded cave with Peeta. "You're here."

"Where else would I be?"

"In the cave." I whisper hoarsely. I closed my eyes again, and then quickly open them up for fear of being transported back to my nightmare.

"The cave? Oh, Katniss." He steps closer to me, but he doesn't hug me and I'm thankful. Though I want to feel the comfort and security of Peeta's arms, I cannot handle that right now. I'm just not strong enough. He keeps looking at me and I know that if I don't move I'm going to cry. And if the tears come, I won't be able to control them.

I begin to walk towards the kitchen and as if on cue, my stomach growls. "Would you like some breakfast?" I ask.

"Katniss," his voice is calming. "Tell me why you thought I was in the cave?"

"I will," I turn my head to him, but continue walking. "Over breakfast." Though I don't want to relive the brief flashback to the cave I experienced, I have vowed to try and make things better between him and I. So I won't keep it to myself.

I set our plates of food out as Peeta warms our bread and spreads cheese across it. We both get a cup of tea and sit at the kitchen table. I begin to tell him how I felt this morning when I awoke prior to Greasy Sae's arrival. I jump off of the topic and ask where she was this morning, not realizing that she never showed up and that Peeta and I made breakfast together, then go back into my explanation of why I thought he was dying in the cave.

"So that's why you were whimpering don't die Peeta."

This statement came as a surprise. "I said that?"

"Yes." His eyes lifted to mine and unlike yesterday where I saw hope, today I saw fear. "It scared me to see you like that."

I don't like it when he's scared. Especially if I'm the cause of it. "I never meant to frighten you."

"Well you always frightened me, Katniss." He kind of let out a little chuckle. "You were always very…"

Scary, I want to say, but don't.

"Intimidating," he finishes. "But tempting too." This is the comment that confuses me. I guess my face shows it because he explains himself. "You're like the woods used to be. Forbidden, but very tempting. That _Katniss_…" He looks at the sunlight streaming through the living room window and says, "Nothing could touch her."

This is an explanation I can understand.

"It's the quiet _Katniss_. The timid _Katniss_ that scares me more than anything. She's the one I'm afraid of."

"We're one in the same, you know?"

"Then I suggest you find a way to bring the two together, because separately, they're both somewhat unapproachable."

"You approach me." If it hadn't been for the Hunger Games, would he have approached me?

The tilt of his head and question in his eyes ask the question I just asked myself.

After we clean our breakfast dishes we take out the book and I show Peeta the picture of my father and I tell him what I'd like to write about him. This brings me back to the happy memory I had this morning when I woke up. I tell Peeta about my first time swimming and I see him. I see Peeta again. I can see the boy I spent the day with on a rooftop, talking, napping, eating, and holding hands with. I see my friend in his eyes and now I have hope too. His face is familiar as is his smile. He's watching me as I tell him the story of my experience in the little lake my father brought me to and I realize that I missed this aspect of our friendship. This easy going dynamic we developed over time. It felt good retelling the tale, but it felt better telling it to him.

It was that day that Peeta began making sketches on scraps of paper for the book. He asked me, "Do you know who you'd like to start off with?" I knew he was asking if I wanted to start with Prim or my dad.

"No," I answer honestly. I'm afraid that the wounds of Prim's death are still too fresh, but I think they'll always feel that way.

"Okay." Peeta just takes a sheet of paper and sits at the table with it. After a minute passes. Two. Three. He reaches for his pencils and takes one out in a shade of brown. He's made the decision for me.

I watch as Peeta's fingers move over the paper and it's nothing more than an outline of my father's face, but I recognize it immediately. He draws my father's eyes, nose and a smile. _Yes_, I think to myself. _My father should be the one we start with._

"Peeta," I place my hand on his to stop him from continuing his drawing. I only have a couple of pictures of my father, yet Peeta hasn't copied those photos, he's drawing something else entirely. "What is this a picture of?"

"Your father." He answers so innocently.

"I'm aware of that, but it's not a copy of his wedding photo or the photo we kept on the mantel."

"No," Peeta looks at me. "This is what he looked like when he saw you going to greet him as he walked home from the mines. I used to watch his face light up when he would look at you, Katniss. It was something."

I stand up and pick up the book from the table. I take the scrap of paper with my father's face on it, out of Peeta's hand and place the book in front of him. I give him a little nod of approval and run my hand across his shoulder as I walk into the kitchen for a cup of tea. "Go ahead and draw it." It's obvious to me that he doesn't need to practice sketching this picture.

Watching Peeta turn a blank piece of paper into my father's portrait was nothing short of remarkable. He got lost in his own little world and I knew I was privileged to be able to watch as he created something magnificent. At first I was enthralled with his hands and how they worked. His fingers always seemed to know what inks to grab for and when. I keep looking at the paper as well, wondering when the different colors will actually start looking like my father. Eventually I am too overwhelmed by my desire to stare at Peeta as he works. The intensity smoldering in his eyes makes me think of the suits that Cinna designed for us to wear at the Tribute Parade during the Quarter Quell. A slight sweat breaks out across his temple and his eyes are unblinking. I cannot stop looking at his face. I have seen this face before, too many times. When he was helping me with the book on plants, in the arena, at the Capitol and then I think to myself, _If he had done this during the first Games, shown everyone this fierce passion, it would've been the boy on fire not the girl_.

Though my stomach growls a bit in the early afternoon, I know better than to bring any food or water next to Peeta while he's working. He's afraid something might spill on the paper. At some point I must have fallen asleep as I awaken to the smell of something cooking. When I open my eyes, I see Peeta in my kitchen, standing over the stove, stirring something inside of a pot.

"Hey," I'm greeted by him with a smile.

"Hi." I stand up to see what he's making.

"Nothing much," he answers my question of what's for dinner before I ask it. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a cook, but we still have some bread from this morning and this soup I'm attempting to make."

"I'm sure it will be fine, Peeta." My eyes scan the table for his completed work, but the book is nowhere to be found.

"I put it in the cupboard," he pointed toward a piece of furniture in the living room and once again I realize that he seems to be reading my mind.

As I take the book out of the wooden hutch I can feel my palms begin to sweat. For some reason I can't seem to open it. I hear Peeta slowly walking behind me.

"What do you think?" He asks me.

"I don't know yet. I can't seem to bring myself to open it."

From behind me his arm reaches out and his fingers brush mine as he lifts the cover of the book to show my father's sparkling eyes smiling up at me. He's waiting for me to run and jump into his arms as he walks home from the mines. Without realizing what I had done, I slam the cover close and I gasp.

Peeta makes an attempt to take the book out of my hand, but I don't let it go. Then he turns me by my shoulders to face him, "Are you all right?" Shaking me a little. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," I nod my head. "Yes, it's just so… so real, Peeta." I look down at the book again and trace my fingers across my father's image. "How do you do this? How did you know what he looked like when he saw me?" I lifted my face to his.

Peeta smiled into my eyes and said, "I used to watch him go home whenever I could."

"What?" I was in shock by this statement.

"I couldn't help it. I was curious to know about the man who could make the birds fall silent and then one day I saw you running up to him and that was it. After that, whenever I could, I would try to watch for him when he walked home and I'd sneak peeks at the two of you."

If there was ever a question in my mind whether or not I could rebuild a friendship with Peeta, it was gone now.

**Please follow me on tumblr my name is jamiesommers23 if you have questions that's where you ask them. If you want to say something about the story, go ahead. If you don't that's fine too. Smooch**

** archiveofourown dot org/users/jamiesommers has the rated M version**


	2. Darius

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Two: Darius**

**The Road to Recovery**

The next couple of weeks passed with casual visits between Peeta and myself. Nothing too intense. I was still writing my father's story in the book, at my house, while Peeta worked out some sketches on scraps of paper. When we were satisfied with a particular picture, we'd save it and then I could see Peeta's mind start working in overtime trying to decide the right colors of ink to use as a permanent picture in the book.

It wasn't until we got to Darius' picture that his mind began playing tricks on him. He'd start drawing and asked me if he got his nose right or some other feature and if I corrected him he'd get frustrated, crumpling up the image, and starting over again.

It was the third day of Darius attempts, Haymitch was there, as well as Greasy Sae, both trying to help Peeta perfect the sketch, when Haymitch said, "No, his eyes weren't that dark."

Peeta exploded. "Yes they were!" He screamed. "They were almost black!" He stood up so quickly he knocked his chair over. "I saw them," he got into Haymitch's face. "I saw them," he gritted out the words between his teeth and I knew what he saw. Darius and the other Avox being tortured in front of him while he was hijacked. Peeta swept his hands across the table and brushed all of his artist's tools onto the floor, then stormed out of the house.

The three of us, Haymitch, Greasy Sae and myself, just stood there in utter disbelief. We hadn't seen this side of Peeta in weeks. I hadn't seen it since the Capitol, but perhaps the other two had. He had been trying his best to control himself, and I was under some sort of misconception that he was just back to normal. He seemed that way to me, but maybe he was just better at hiding it than I was. Haymitch and Greasy Sae looked at me as if to say, go after him. I knew I should've gone right away, but I didn't think I could. I'm barely hanging on myself, so what help would I be to him? I answered my question instantly. You could listen. You could be a friend. He's been one to you, so why not try and be one to him?

It was a short walk to his house, yet it felt like it took me a year to get there. What would I say? I never was any good with words. That was Peeta's domain. I don't know why I was afraid to go to him, but I was. No. I knew why I was scared. I didn't want to fail him. The thought of letting him down didn't sit well with me.

I found him walking through one of his spare bedrooms. I was in awe when I walked in and saw how many of Peeta's paintings were in there. He had obviously been painting again, because he had mentioned trying to find the perfect shade of gold, but I hadn't realized to what degree. I watched him as he stoped at a painting; it's the only one with a cover on it, which he yanked off. Both of his hands gripped the top of the portrait, which I could not make out as Peeta's body was blocking my view, and he dropped to his knees. His body quaked as I heard him cry. This is when I looked at the picture and saw the red haired man in the painting was Darius being tortured. His mouth was opened, but where there should have been a tongue, was nothing but a stump and shreds of pink. I was sick to my stomach just looking at the picture. Blood dripping from two missing digits on his right hand, three missing on his left. Two of his toes were barely hanging onto his body. Bones were sticking out of him and he had been whipped, but kept alive. Barely. In the corner of the picture I could see his twin. A girl. She's portrayed to be in the distance, but you can tell she is in the same condition as Darius was. I could not take my eyes off of this scene in front of me. This scene that Peeta has painted on his canvas. This scene that haunts his nightmares. I cannot hear the noises that Darius is making, but I know Peeta can and that's when I remember. Peeta! I walked towards him and picked up the cover that he pulled off. I had no intention of putting it back on. Instead I took it in my hand and began to wipe his face.

Peeta's hand reached out to stop me. "We can't hide it, Peeta." With my other hand I removed the grip he has on me. Once again I attempted to use this material to wipe his face, this time he allowed me. His sobs had turned into whimpers. "We want to bury them, these terrible memories. Push them back as far from our minds as possible, but there's no running from them. They always seem to find us, don't they?" I made a sweeping gesture with my hand across the room and his eyes seemed to follow. "The image you want to portray of Darius will come in time, Peeta. You just need time to heal, but hiding never helped anyone." I smiled sheepishly. "Trust me. I should know."

Peeta grabbed me so quickly I fell into his embrace. I was unsure of what to do. I let him hold me, because I knew he needed it, but I couldn't respond in kind. I'm still not ready for that.

My eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on a picture of Finnick's back and Mags thrown over his shoulder smiling back at Peeta. This brought a warmth to my heart of which I could not explain. Then I saw another picture, this one was not as crisp and clear as the others, it was a swirl of colors almost and then I let my eyes adjust… The Cornucopia. I could see it now, it's the fight after Wiress was killed, but the star of this attraction was Johanna and the colors of the jungle that surrounded her. The striking blue of the water, the bright pink sky, white hot sun glaring off of the silver blades of Johanna's ax as she flew it through the air. Her hair was dark and standing up in little tufts, but I could see the hatred in her eyes. At the bottom of the scene a pool of red blood slowly seeping into the blue of the water and the gold of the sand. For a brief second I wondered if this was the shade of gold Peeta was trying to capture.

I'm not sure when it happened, but at some point I grabbed onto Peeta for dear life. We just knelt on his floor holding onto one another for what seemed like a lifetime. Eventually, we moved into a sitting position, but our link remained. We held hands and surveyed the room. This was the first time we had been this close in a long time. On one hand it felt natural sitting that way with Peeta. On the other hand, I felt extremely exposed and vulnerable. A feeling that never did mesh well with me. I refused to pull away though. Peeta needed to hold my hand and I didn't have it in my heart to hurt him.

I continued to look at the portraits that surrounded us. Some of them were so lifelike. All I said was, "Johanna."

Peeta immediately knew which one I was talking about. He stood up and walked me over to it. "This one wasn't so clear when I painted it. I just knew what was in my head and when I was done, this is what came out."

"It's Johanna," I said. Stepping closer to the portrait I ran my fingers against her silver ax. "You captured her brilliantly, Peeta." In my heart I knew Johanna would feel like me when and if she saw this portrait of herself. She'd hate it and love it at the same time. For me, I felt like I'm seeing my friend again. The thought of Johanna as my friend was a little misconceived, but she was the closest thing to a friend I had in Thirteen other than Gale. Though I know she'd never admit it publicly, or privately for that matter. "When did you paint it?"

"After your trial. The doctor thought that doing something I loved would help me."

"Did it?"

"Yes, I think." The look on his face read regret.

"You think?" I asked him.

"I have no doubt it helped me to remember things more clearly, but on the other hand…"

I finished for him. "It helped you to remember things more clearly."

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Yeah." I agreed knowing what those memories entailed and how they invaded the little bits of sleep we victors got.

Peeta's head began to hang down and I knew that it was my turn to lift it up as he had done so many times for me in the past. _"Do something, Katniss. Say something."_ I could hear Haymitch's words clear as day, _"Gush!"_

"There's one here that I actually like." Peeta's head picked up a bit. "As you know I do hate all of your pictures," I said this, in a joking tone, as I walked towards the one of Finnick carrying Mags. "But this is one of your finest."

Peeta smiled at Mags, "She was something, wasn't she?"

"Who? Mags? Of course she was, but I'm talking about Finnick." I made an attempt at teasing Peeta. "I love the way you capture his golden locks and rippling muscles as he walks with his Trident." I lifted my eyes up to glance at him and let the corner of my mouth curl up into a little smirk. "I had no clue you were studying him so closely, Peeta." I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow a bit just to accentuate the joke.

He laughed a little and said, "Uh oh." Peeta walked towards the piece of discarded material that was used to cover the portrait of Darius and tossed it into a pile of used rags. I'm glad he didn't cover it up, but the image is so vile that I understand why he did.

I turned towards him and said, "Uh oh, what?"

He stopped and looked directly into my face. "I think those two Katniss' are merging and that could mean trouble." He continued walking out of the room and down the stairs.

"Trouble!" I called out to him. "What do you mean, trouble?" Peeta just kept walking while I chased after him like trained dog. "What did you mean….Peeta?" Ignoring me completely, he walked out of the house and towards mine. I stomped my feet and begin to get angry with him. "I am not trouble," I yelled at myself and then immediately laughed at myself, because I knew he was right. I was the biggest troublemaker in the nation. I'm the Mockingjay.

The sound of my own laughter was foreign to my ears and I'm grateful that I followed Peeta into his house today. It felt good to laugh again.

I walked into my home to hear Peeta saying his apologies to Haymitch and Greasy Sae, both of whom brushed it off like it was nothing. Compared to me, I'm sure it was nothing. My tantrums are eerily quiet at times and can go on for days. They've been known to scare Haymitch into sobriety. Still, in a sick sort of way, I was relieved to know I wasn't the only person going through this all by myself. It's wrong. I know. It's totally wrong to feel comfort knowing someone you care about is just as damaged as you are, but I no longer felt alone in my struggles and this twisted image brought me a sense of security. Peeta is not quite as healed as I thought. And he just might need me as much as I need him.


	3. Remembering Prim

Notes: This was originally written as a rated T story, but I am editing it and adding quite a bit to it to make it a rated M story. Thanks A for being my beta! You're so awesome.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Three: Remembering Prim**

**The Road to Recovery**

The days got easier to deal with, and Peeta and I began to get comfortable with one another again. Peeta baked, Haymitch drank and I hunted. One day as I was preparing to go hunting I noticed Greasy Sae staring at me. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing girl. Just nice to see you smiling again."

_Was I smiling? _I didn't know. A wave of guilt washed over me. _I shouldn't be smiling. I've been home for two months, and that's not nearly enough time for grieving. _I was ashamed of myself for forgetting Prim. I should have been thinking about her. Remembering her. Not smiling. I grabbed my game bag and left the house, but as I walked through Victor's Village I heard Peeta calling out my name. I ignored him. _Not today. I'm not in the mood for this today. He's the worst. He always makes me smile, laugh…forget! I should be in mourning!_

"Katniss! Hold up!"

"NO!" I screamed and ran to the woods. _He won't follow me, and I'm much faster than he is anyway._ I walked deep into the forest and took shelter between two large trees burying my face in my hands, and cried. I missed my sister. I missed her gentle voice. Her timid ways. I thought that the woods wouldn't remind me of her, but they did. I remembered her wanting to heal the animals that I shot for our dinner. "Oh Prim. Where are you? I miss you so much." Did I say he wouldn't follow me? I was wrong. He did.

"Katniss?" The gentle tone of Peeta's voice caused me to grow simultaneously weary and angry.

"Leave me alone, Peeta." I swiped my hand under my running nose. "I just want to be left alone." I was so upset with him for reasons unknown to me. It was just easier being mad at him, than at myself I guess.

"No."

Now he really pissed me off. "What do you mean? No?" I stood up and got in his face. "If I want to be left alone I have the right!"

"Yes you do, but I'm not going to leave you out here like this." _Why is he so calm?_ I should have been grateful seeing Peeta's easy going ways returning. Instead it infuriated me.

"Like what? Crying? I'm not the first person in the world to cry you know."

"No, but I don't care about other people. I care about you." He reached out to touch me, but I pulled away.

"Don't." I was so furious with him I could barely see straight.

"Don't what? Be here for you?" He paused and lowered down his voice. "Care about you?"

I hated it when he was kind to me and I was horrible to him. It made me feel so shallow...cruel. Uncaring. "Any of it! Don't be kind!"

"Sorry, I'll try to be more of an ass," he said without an ounce of humor in his voice.

This comment took me completely off guard, and I let out something of a laugh. "That's worse." My voice, which had been shaking with anger, turned steady. I wanted the anger I had only a second ago back, but somehow Peeta has managed to subdue it, and I found myself confused at my reaction to him.

"What's worse? Making you laugh?"

"Yes." Tears were falling from my eyes. I guess they never really stopped. "I can't deal with you right now, Peeta." _Or with the emotions you bring out in me so easily_, I said in my mind.

"I'm not asking you to _deal_ with me. Whatever that means. But I am going to ask you to deal with your tears…with your feelings."

"Okay! That!" I was frustrated and angry again. I liked that much better. I was always quite good at being mad. Being irritable had always been my forte. "That's what I mean." I wasn't sure when I began pacing like a lunatic, but it felt good to get some of my frustrations out.

"What? What's what you mean?"

"When you're all sweet to me and asking me to face my feelings. I don't want to face my feelings. I just want to cry. I want to hurt. Can't I hurt for a little while without someone trying to analyze it? Why won't anyone just let me be?" I slumped to the ground and buried my head between my knees, suddenly feeling wiped out. I could feel his hand rubbing my back in a circular motion, but he didn't say a word. I didn't want him to touch me. It felt too good, and I was currently beating myself up for allowing myself any forms of pleasure. My body was quaking violently from the tears I couldn't keep at bay, so I just let him stroke my back, and tried my best not to find comfort in his familiar touch. I tried not to throw my arms around his neck and let him hold me like he had in the past. I hadn't felt this type of touch from Peeta in so long that the tears I cried for the loss of my sister were now joined by tears for losing the love of the boy currently consoling me.

After a few minutes, when I was completely cried out, he asked me, "Feel better?"

"No." I did feel better, but I wasn't going to admit that to him.

"Ready to talk about it?"

"No." I most certainly was not going to talk to him about it either.

"Talk about it anyway." He lifted up my face and wiped the tears away from my eyes then reached into his pocket and pulled out some paper he had been using to draw sketches on. "Here. Blow your nose."

I did as he said and began talking. There was really no reason for me to tell him why I was crying other than the fact that he was there, and I knew he wouldn't go away unless I told him. Frustrated with myself for caving in so easily I finally let it spill out. "Greasy Sae told me that it was nice to see me smiling, and I felt guilty because I shouldn't be smiling. I shouldn't be happy."

"Why not?" Peeta asked innocently.

"Because." _My sister is gone_, I thought but failed to say.

"Because Prim's dead and you're not?" I really hated it when he read my thoughts.

"Yes."

"I can understand that."

"You can?" _How could he understand this? His sister wasn't murdered! Oh... but his whole family wa_s.

"Sure." He brushed a few loose strands of hair out of my eyes. "I felt the same way after I made some cookies last week."

_I don't remember having any cookies_.

"They were my mother's specialty. Thing is…I didn't remember that until I smelled them baking." The look on his face was torturous. "My mom… I think you can guess what kind of relationship I had with her. It wasn't the best."

I remembered him showing up to school with a black eye after burning the loaves of bread he threw to me and her comment to him about me being a survivor and quite possibly winning the Hunger Games. I was pretty sure that it was safe to say my analysis of his mother and the title, witch, was an accurate one.

He continued to speak, "When I was growing up, I hated my mother. I hated everything about her. At least I thought I did." He leaned back on his hands and stared off into the distance. "She would yell at my father for no reason and hit me anytime I did the slightest thing wrong. Not my brothers though. I never understood that." He looked at me and asked, "Why do you think she never hit them and always hit me?"

_Because_ _she knew it would hurt you more than the others. You have the biggest heart_. I gave him a shrug of my shoulder, not wanting to put my thoughts out there.

"Anyway, when I smelled the cookies baking, I remembered that these were the one thing that my mom was known for at the bakery, and I threw them away. I just took the pan out of the oven and tossed the whole thing to Haymitch's geese."

_So that's why I didn't get any cookies._

"I realized that I missed my mom. This woman I thought I hated my whole life… Turns out I actually loved her." He wrapped his arms around his knees and turned his head away from me. "She wasn't always bad, you know?" His face took on the appearance of a child which caused a part of my heart to melt. "Sometimes she'd tuck me in at night and she'd tell me she was sorry she hurt me. She always felt bad after she hit me." His voice cracked a little as he confessed this to me.

He looked at me, and I could see the eleven year old boy that came to school with a black eye again. The gut wrenching pain I felt for him was overwhelming.

"Oh, Peeta." I reached out and hugged him. "I'm so sorry." I had lost my sister, who I adored. There was no question about that, but he had lost his entire family. He was hurting for a woman that showed him barely any love throughout his life. _What that must be like. To hurt for someone like that_.

"Tell me about Prim, Katniss." I wasn't sure if I could. "Please?"

"Okay." I didn't know what to say. "What do you want to know?"

"What was it like? Having a sister?"

I thought for a moment and answered him. "Wonderful. Prim was a wonderful sister. She was everything I wasn't." I began to think of all the good things Prim brought to my life. "She could coax things out of me that no one ever could…except you on occasion." I remembered a story he got me to tell him in the cave during the Games. This made him smile. "She was so bright too, Peeta. So bright. They wanted to train her as a doctor in District Thirteen you know?"

"No. I didn't know that." He wrapped his arms around his knees and got himself comfortable as I told him about Prim.

"Yes. It's true. She had my mother's healing capabilities."

"So do you, you know?"

"No. I don't, but that's beside the point." I told Peeta of the nights Prim would get me to sing to her, and how she convinced me to keep that wretched cat, Buttercup. "Who is now a permanent fixture in my home."

"I noticed that," He chuckled.

I smiled at the thought of that ugly cat making his way back to District Twelve on his own. Buttercup was a survivor like me. I told Peeta the true story of how I got Prim's goat, Lady and he laughed.

"I knew you didn't sell a piece of jewelry."

"Yeah…well…" I knew I was blushing, but for the life of me I didn't know why. "Everyone loved Prim. For good reason too. She just brought out the best in people."

"Yeah. My mom even liked her."

"She did?"

"Yup."

"I didn't know that."

"My dad was mad about her."

"Now that I knew." I remembered his father smiling at Prim through the bakery window and waving to her on many occasions. "Your father was always nice to Prim." I lifted my eyes to him. "He was always nice to me."

"My dad was a kind man, but-"

"But what?"

Peeta had a look of regret on his face as he said, "He wasn't very strong."

"Strong?" I always thought the baker looked strong enough, but I don't think that's the kind of strength Peeta was speaking of.

"He always let my mother push him around. Not physically…" After a few seconds he said, "I used to wonder why he never stood up to her."

I confessed, "I used to wonder why my mother almost let us starve to death after my father died." I understood now. After leaving Peeta behind in the Quell I was certain I would go mad. It wasn't until Prim and Finnick brought to my attention how he was being used against me during his time as a prisoner of war that I realized I had loved Peeta. Maybe not in a typical sense of the word, but how could I not feel love for him? He and I had been through so much together by that point, shared a bond that I had never felt with anyone else, including Gale. Yes, I understood the pain my mom felt at the loss of her husband. The man she loved so much that she left the softer life in town behind and went to live in the Seam to be with my father. "Love makes you do stupid things."

"I don't think my dad loved my mom."

"He must have, Peeta. Why else would he have married her?"

He thought about this for a moment and then said, "Because your mom fell in love with your father and not mine."

His words caused me to smile a little.

"I'm glad she did too," he said. "If she hadn't then you wouldn't be here and I wouldn't be here and…well…you know..." For the first time ever, Peeta seemed to be at a loss for words.

I was flattered by his lack of communication skills, but nervous as well. There were some things that were better left unsaid and for the moment, what he was alluding to was one of those things, so I continued telling Peeta about Prim. "Once, when I was about fourteen, Prim had asked me if I had ever kissed a boy before."

"She did?" Peeta's eyebrows shot straight up.

"Mmm hmmm." I thought about it with fondness.

"What did you say?"

"I told her no, and that I had no interest in such things and she shouldn't either."

"What did she say when you told her that?"

"She said, 'Katniss, you need to loosen up.'" I started to laugh at the memory of Prim sitting on the edge of my bed, braiding my hair and telling me how liking boys was a natural part of life.

"I can just picture her saying that to you," Peeta laughed. "You probably just wanted to tell her to shut up and go to bed or something too, didn't you?"

"Yes!" My laughter joined his. "But I didn't. I let her finish braiding my hair and I asked her why she was asking me about boys. It turns out; my little sister had a secret crush."

"Oh really? Prim? On who?"

"Dixon Swallow."

"Dixon Swallow?" Peeta thought for a moment then burst into laughter. "Dixon Swallow! You mean Mr. Swallow the history teacher?"

"Yup." Once again I found myself laughing along with him. "She was completely enamored with him. Prim, I said. Prim, he's your teacher. And she said to me, 'but he's such a good teacher, Katniss and he seems to care about all of his students. That's what I'd like in a man. Someone who cares about others.'" My laughter faded to a sad smile at the memory of Prim's admission of love. "She got over him pretty quickly though."

"I hope so. He really wasn't much of a looker. Prim could have done so much better."

"Prim could do anything if she wanted to."

"Yeah, I think so too."

"The best thing about Prim though, was her ability to see the good in people. In anything really." I looked at Peeta and said, "You're a lot like her in that way." I meant this wholeheartedly.

"I doubt that."

"Why would you doubt that?" My brows furrowed.

"Katniss, I don't really think highly of people anymore."

"Yes you do, Peeta." I stood up from the ground. Dusted my pants off and held out a hand to him. He followed suit and I smiled softly at him. "It's just who you are. It's in your nature. You can't change that, Peeta. The Capitol tried to, and look how well that turned out for them."

"It turned out pretty well, I think." Guilt was written all over his face. "I almost killed you."

I put my hand in his and began walking back home. "But you didn't."

"Only because someone stopped me."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Still…I'm alive and correct me if I'm wrong, but I tried to kill myself after I shot Coin and you stopped me."

"I guess." He still sounded like he was in utter dismay.

"Peeta?" I stopped and looked directly into his eyes. "If I thought for a moment that you would hurt me, do you think I'd be here with you like this?"

"I don't know. Would you?" This poor boy. What the Capitol did to him made me sick.

I did have to stop and think for a moment though. When I smiled at him and said, "Yeah, I probably would." He laughs. "I can't help it! It's what we do, remember?"

He finished my statement for me. "We protect each other."

"Yup." We walked back to my house hand in hand. It was comforting, and once again I found myself grateful that Peeta never put up with my fits. He seemed to be the only one that could reach me when I was so forgone. We continued to walk side by side in complete silence. Peeta's thumb began brushing against the back of my hand, and I found that I was enjoying our physical connection quite a bit.

"You're smiling," he said with his eyes facing straight ahead.

"I am?" I hadn't realized that.

"Yeah," Peeta smiled too.

"Good. Prim would like that." And I meant it.


	4. Healing Powers

Chapter 4: Healing Powers Summary: Peeta has slowly wormed his way back into Katniss' life and now he's struck a spark within her that is causing her to reevaluate their past relationship as well as their future one. Notes: Thank you to A for being my beta and for reading this story all over again. This story was originally written with a T rating, but I have changed it to M and added a lot more to it. Please be prepared for some heat as we get further along in the story. Italics = current thoughts

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Four: Healing Powers**

**The Road to Recovery**

The next morning I left the confines of my house and went to the woods where I found my bow and arrows. I was feeling spry and wicked all at the same time. A rousing combination and I had to admit, I liked it. I quickly spotted something out of the corner of my eye scurrying up a tree, and took aim. SNAP! Right through the eye. The furry little creature didn't stand a chance. I quickly retrieved my arrow, and placed my kill in my game bag as I continued on my quest. By the time I was done hunting my game bag was full of rabbits, squirrels and a badger. When I got home I could smell the food that had been left for me by Greasy Sae, but it had to wait as I cleaned and stored the game I shot, and then took a shower to wash the day's activities off of me. The instant I turned the shower on I was grateful the Capitol put them in the homes at Victor's Village. They weren't as fancy as the ones in the Capitol, but the water was always hot, and when I stepped out of the shower I felt rejuvenated. By the time I came down for dinner, I was so hungry I ate it right out of the pot. It was cold and tasted like sludge, but I didn't really care. For the first time in a long time I had a good day. No tears. No sadness. Talking about Prim yesterday with Peeta was almost cleansing for me. Slowly but surely I was beginning to think of her without remorse or sorrow. _She'd be proud of me_.

I made a cup of tea and brought it upstairs with me. As I walked to my bedroom I noticed that there was a light on in Peeta's house. It was the spare bedroom light. _I wonder if he's painting,_ and like that I'm taken back to the picture of Johanna at the Cornucopia. The swirls of color. Silver, gold and blood red. Always the blood red.

Walking towards the window I tried to put these thoughts away and remember what I felt like earlier in the day. How good it had been to let myself enjoy life for a little while. It was only a few hours, but what a few hours they were. I opened the window and let the scent of the woods mingle with the sounds of the night, and I went to sleep. With any luck my nightmares would be kept at bay.

I heard him tonight. I heard his scream. There was just one, but it was a loud one. I quickly jumped out of bed and rushed to my window. I saw that his spare bedroom light was still on so I ran as fast as my feet could take me. Down the stairs, past the living room, through the sitting area and out the door. I ran to Peeta's house. I expected to find Haymitch on my heels, but there was no sign of him, so I dug the spare key out from behind the little rock by his entry way. I fumbled with it in the darkness, but I finally got it in the doorknob. I expected to hear Peeta's cries the second I stepped into his home. Instead I heard nothing but silence. Nothing. _Was I dreaming? No. Peeta doesn't make noise when he has nightmares, but tonight I think he may have._ I ran up the stairs to his spare bedroom and I didn't see him, so I went to his bedroom and there he was. Asleep. My heart was racing as I crawled into bed next to him. _He's here and he's alright,_ I told myself. _Peeta's here and he's alright_. Then I felt his arms wrap around me, and I lay my head on his chest where I knew his heart would beat strong beneath my ear. Tonight it was beating fast too, so fast it scared me, so I jostled him until he woke up.

"Katniss?" His sleepy, thick voice spoke. "Nightmare." He went back to sleep. I listened to his heart slowing down to a strong and steady beat. Thoughts of the first time we had lay like this entered my mind. _We were in the cave. Peeta's leg had been sliced open by Cato, and he was on the verge of death._ Just thinking about it caused a chill to run down my spine. _I barely knew you then, Peeta_. A silent conversation began to play out in my head. _I didn't know how to feel about you back then. I hated you when I saw you walking through the woods with the Careers. I had no idea you were playing them...and me, I guess._ I curled my leg over his and tucked my foot beneath his calf before continuing on with my silent one sided conversation. _I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me what your plan had been. Sometimes I still wonder what you were thinking. Why would you risk your life for mine? _That's when I remembered,_ you loved me once. Do you still feel that way?_ The need to look up at him had become overwhelming. I stared at Peeta while he slept. Took in his strong jaw, his nose, which was almost as perfect as his teeth when he smiled. The way his lips parted while he slept, and suddenly I remembered what those lips felt like on mine. My fingers traced his upper lip, the well-defined arches that had pressed against my mouth a thousand times before. They puckered in his sleep and pressed a soft kiss against my fingertips. I drew my hand back and gathered the blankets up to my chin, telling myself that Peeta was fine, and that I needed to take myself home before my mind began traveling down a path I would regret, but his arm wrapped around me, his hand curled over my hip and slid its way down my back. He began rubbing at the lower part of my spine in his sleep, and I wound up staying with him until the morning, making sure I left before he woke up.

Confused about my actions the night before, I avoided Peeta that morning and hounded Haymitch instead. "Out of liquor?"

"No." My mentor loved it when I bothered him. Okay, maybe I loved it when I bothered him.

"Then why aren't you drunk? It's already noon." I found this to be quite funny, but apparently Haymitch didn't see the humor in it and told me to leave. _Fine. I'll go gather some things in the woods._ I had been hunting, but I hadn't really been gathering much lately. Spring was in full bloom so I knew I'd be able to find plenty of items for my meals.

I headed home to grab my bag, and as I was about to enter my house I saw Peeta coming around the back of his place.

"Hi," he looked nervous.

"Hi," I _was_ nervous.

We just stood there until we both started speaking at the same time.

"I was just on my way…"

"I thought I'd work on my garden…"

"Oh. You've got a garden?" _How did I not know this?_

"Yeah. Nothing big. Just some basic things. Peas, beans, tomatoes…"

"I didn't plant one this year." I hadn't thought about it. I should've, but I didn't.

"That's okay. I planted enough for all of us." By all of us I knew he meant himself, Haymitch, Greasy Sae and me.

"I thought you said it wasn't very big."

"It's not. You don't need a big garden to feed a handful of people."

"No. I guess not," I scratched at the back of my head hoping he'd stop trying to make small talk with me; wanting desperately to avoid this awkward tension between us.

"So you're going somewhere?" He asked, making more small talk.

"Yeah. I thought I'd go and gather some stuff."

"Okay. I don't want to keep you." He began walking towards his front door, and I felt relieved that we didn't have to continue with the extremely uncomfortable verbal cat and mouse game we found ourselves in the midst of. "Katniss?"

"Yes," I turned and looked at him.

"Want to have dinner with me tonight?"

We had dinner together almost every night so I wasn't sure why he was asking. "Of course," I answered with a confused look on my face.

"I'll cook."

"Okay." Any excuse for me to stay out of a kitchen was fine by me. "Want me to bring anything specific back with me?"

"No. Wait. Yes. Katniss."

"What?"

"No," he chuckled. "I want you to bring back some katniss. As in the root."

"Oh. Okay." That meant a trip to the lake which actually sounded nice, but it would take me a while to get there, root up some katniss and get back so I quickly headed off. "See you later."

The walk to the lake was lovely. The weather was warm, but not overly hot and there was a slight breeze. If I had more time I would've packed a lunch and just enjoyed being out in the open, but I didn't want to disappoint Peeta. I gathered some dandelion greens, a few early sunflower seeds and a bunch of katniss. I caught a few fish while I was at the little lake and thought about making a stew with some salad on the side, but then I remembered that Peeta was cooking that night. I packed up my booty and headed home. As I walked through the forest I had a brief thought about Gale. This would have been the kind of day that he and I would've enjoyed. Knots began to form in my stomach so I pushed thoughts of Gale to the back of my mind. Of course that just caused him to be more prominent in my thinking. I needed to do something to get my head out of the spiral it was heading down. It was then that I noticed the mockingjays flitting about in the trees overhead. Black feathers so shiny they looked blue and the flash of white from underneath its wing that set them apart from their fathers the Jabberjay. Singing didn't feel right, but whistling… I could whistle to them and see if they'd respond. So I made a game of it. All the way back to the fence that separated the woods from District Twelve, I would whistle a little melody and listen to the birds repeat it back to me. Soon I forgot about the heavy bag I carried on my shoulder and my lifelong friend that caused my sister's murder.

"Fish! Wow. I didn't expect you to bring that back." Peeta seemed thrilled with the spoils of my day.

"I was at the lake anyway so I thought, why waste the trip."

"We're going to have ourselves a feast tonight Miss. Everdeen," he said through an infectious smile.

"Good! I'm famished."

"You also smell like fish," Peeta's perfect nose crinkled. "Why don't you go and clean up while I take care of dinner?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I've got this."

"Good. I'm feeling quite grimy." Not to mention I hated cooking.

"Go ahead then and I'll make dinner."

I turned towards the stairs, but before I headed up I looked back at Peeta and wondered, _Was it just this morning that I was avoiding him?_ I could be so silly at times. Peeta and I had spent many nights together and I never felt like I had to avoid him afterward, but it had been a long time since we slept wrapped in each other's arms. I had to wonder if he even knew that I had spent the night in his bed. A little surge of excitement shot through me when I thought of him kissing the tip of my finger while I traced the peaks of his upper lip. Had he been awake at the time or did he simply do it out of instinct, and who kisses someone in their sleep anyway?

Peeta began humming to himself as he took out pans from my pantry and I thought of Prim. _Okay, Prim. I guess I have to try and mend this part of our friendship too_.

Dinner was wonderful. Peeta roasted the katniss, pan seared the fish and made a tossed salad with the greens and seeds I had found earlier in the day. Alongside were some cheese buns and some sort of nectar he said Effie had given to him when she came to town for my wedding shoot. Peeta had kept it in his freezer, and since the Capitol left Victor's Village unscathed during the war, everything in our freezers kept. He brought a plate over to Haymitch before we sat down to eat. Peeta had taken to feeding Haymitch quite regularly since his return. The meal itself turned out spectacular, and the table he set with the china that my mother bought after the first Games, was exquisite. Over dinner we talked about the book, and I told him that I liked the picture he drew of Prim being kissed by her goat, Lady. He told me that he had finally sketched a picture of Darius that both Greasy Sae and Haymitch agreed was flattering to the Peacekeeper and captured his sense of humor. I told him about the game I played with the mockingjays, and he told me that he'd like to try that sometime. All in all, it was a very nice dinner. We cleaned the kitchen up and had a cup of mint tea signaling the end of the day. I added a touch of sugar to mine, and Peeta drank his plain. Neither of us spoke about the night before until it was almost time for him to go home.

"It was beautiful out last night," I said. "I left my window open and I swear I could hear the animals in the woods calling out." I left it at that. I wanted him to know that I heard him in his sleep, but I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable.

"You know, Katniss, sometimes I wonder if you really did get superhuman hearing when they fixed it at the Capitol." He just looked at me with a shy grin on his face.

Though I tried not to, I couldn't help but blush. "Well, I don't know about that." I walked to the living room and I began to shut off the lights. When I went back into the kitchen and turned the last of the lights off, I found him still standing by the table just grinning at me. _Can I stay the night?_ I could hear his question even though he hadn't been speaking. In my mind I was thinking, _just ask him to stay. What can be the harm?_

He walked to the front door and stood there for, what seemed like an eternity, but it was only about ten or fifteen seconds. Then he locked the door and turned to me, searching for some kind of answer, I suppose.

My answer, as it turned out, was my back facing him and my feet walking towards my bedroom. When I heard him entering the room behind me I said to him, "It's really a lovely night. Why don't you open the window?" He always did prefer to sleep with the window open. Even in the dead of winter, during the Victory Tour, we cracked the window in my train compartment. He said he had been doing that since he was a kid. When I asked him why, he avoided the question for over an hour before answering me. Saying that he had been standing behind me during a fire drill in the second grade, and I smelled like fresh air. From that point on, Peeta slept with the window opened hoping that the scent of fresh air would bring dreams of me instead of nightmares. It hadn't dawned on me at the time that Peeta had nightmares prior to the Games, or what they were about, but tonight I wondered.

The first night I went to him, but the second night he stayed with me. We didn't speak for a while after I suggested he open the window. We simply lay down under the covers and closed our eyes until my curiosity got the best of me and I had to ask, "Peeta, what did you have nightmares about before the arena?"

"Guess they were pretty typical for the most part. I mean, everyone has nightmares, right?"

It seemed like a decent enough explanation, but I could tell there was something he wasn't telling me. "I used to have nightmares about my dad dying before I went into the arena. I used to think they were the worst thing in the world to relive, but that was before I was in the arena."

I lay waiting until Peeta said, "My mother used to hit me a lot." It wasn't a big secret that Peeta's mom was pretty mean. Gale and I had nicknamed her the witch, but after hearing what Peeta told me I thought the nickname was too mild. "She used to use just her hands to smack me around, but the older I got the harder it was for her to hit me without hurting herself in the process so she took to using the flat wooden paddles we used to take the loaves of bread out of the oven."

"She spanked you with them?"

He let out a small demented chuckle. "I wish they were just spankings. No. My mom didn't believe in spankings, she believed in beatings." I squeezed his torso as a form of comfort for both of us. "When I was…I don't know…about three maybe? She had smacked my face so hard I had a bruise in the shape of her fingers on my cheek for a week."

I lifted myself up so I could stare down into his face. "What did your dad do?"

"I'm not sure. I only remember her hitting me. Why she did it I have absolutely no idea. All I know is that it hurt really badly. There were other times she smacked my face, but that one time in particular really stands out. Maybe because it was the first beating I remember her giving me." He gave his shoulder a little shrug. "She started using the bread paddle when I was in my last year of middle school. I had joined the wrestling team and started building muscle. She started to pound on me because I spilled some sugar on the floor and she let out a yelp." He smiled a little. "I guess that's when her, 'it hurts me more than you' excuse was actually the truth." He rested his hand on my hip while the other curled around my back. "I had some pretty bad bruises from that paddle. I even hid it once, but she was pretty resourceful and used one of the rolling pins instead." He ran his hand over a spot on his head above his ear. "Needless to say I left the paddle out for her to see after that. It was a lot easier to deal with that thing than being hit across the head with a rolling pin." My heart broke for this sweet man that spent his life thinking his mother hated him. "Anyway, I used to have nightmares that my mother was hitting me. Sometimes I thought she'd get carried away and wind up killing me. I even wished for it."

"Oh, Peeta," I gasped.

"But then I started school and my father pointed out this little girl to me," he smiled up at me and ran his hand over my hair. "She had a voice like an angel, and when she sang she took me to a safe haven where no one could hurt me."

"Oh, Peeta," this time when I said it my heart cracked as did my voice.

"We all have our hidden demons. As it turned out my mother was mine."

"I'm sorry Peeta." I tucked my head under his chin and brushed the flat of my hand back and forth over his heart. "I wish there was some way I could have helped you back then."

"Not like it was your fault, Katniss. Besides, you did help me. You gave me something to look forward to each day."

I lay with my head resting in the crook of his arm until sleep finally took me over and when it did the nightmares weren't far behind. I wasn't sure how long it took Peeta to wake me up that night. I was screaming. A lot. My body felt like ice and I couldn't seem to get warm enough. Peeta just kept squeezing me tighter and tighter.

"It was just a dream, Katniss. Shh," his arms were wrapped around me. "It'll be all right. I'm here now. I'm here. Everything will be fine." At that moment I found it hard to believe. It wasn't until I put my head against his chest and heard his heart beating in my ear, that I was finally able to go back to sleep.

I didn't know why the sound of his heartbeat lulled me to sleep, but for some reason it did. It was calming. There were nights, on the train, where I would listen to his heart and mine would eventually match his rhythm. Or that's what I told myself. It felt that way to me, but I couldn't think of being on the train with him without thinking of the arena. Whenever I thought of the arena, I'd think of the Quell. The Quell would bring on thoughts of the rebellion. I couldn't think of the rebellion without thinking of Gale, and I couldn't think of Gale without thinking of Prim's murder. It was a vicious cycle that needed to be put to rest. For the time being I pushed the thoughts of the train out of my head and just let Peeta's heartbeat guide me back into slumber.

In the morning I woke up to an empty bed. In a way I was grateful. I honestly didn't know what to say to him in the early morning light. My feelings for him had always been a mash up of truths and lies. _Or had they?_ I honestly didn't know. What I did know, was that I wasn't ready to face those types of feelings yet.

He didn't come the next night even though I wished that he had. I woke up in a cold sweat from one of the worst nightmares I'd ever had. I sat, rocking back and forth, in the middle of my bed. "I'm fine. I'm fine. Everything is fine." I was far from fine. I repeated Peeta's words to me from the night before, "It was just a dream." But it wasn't just a dream. It was a rehashing of my time in the first arena. It was Rue's death. My arrow through District One's neck. I still couldn't refer to him by his name without feeling overwhelming remorse. Worst of all it was the long night listening to Cato fighting off the mutts until there was nothing left of him but a bloody stump begging me to put him out of his misery. It was the image of Cato that had me on my feet and racing to the phone. Before I knew it I was dialing Peeta's number.

"Peeta?" It was barely a whisper.

"Katniss? Are you alright?"

"Cato…" I dropped to the floor and let the visions of Cato's death engulf me. I swear there was ice running through my veins because I couldn't stop shivering. It wasn't until I felt Peeta's arms lift me up and carry me to bed that I allowed the tears to finally spill out.

"Shhh…shhh…" His hands kept running up and down my arms as if he was trying to warm me up. "It's all over now, Katniss. It's over now."

"It'll never be over." I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder. "Never."

Peeta held onto me for over an hour, stroking the hair away from my face, gently rubbing circles across my back, before I finally calmed down.

"Do you want me to make you some tea? Warm milk?" He was wiping my face with a warm cloth. "Can I get you anything?"

"No." All I wanted was to feel safe. To forget that the Games ever happened. "Can you just stay here with me for a little while?"

"Always, Katniss." He climbed into my bed and took me in his arms. It felt so remarkably good to be held by him again. "I can stay as long as you want."

"Will you talk to me?"

"Sure. About what?"

"Anything." I just needed to get my mind off of the nightmare.

"Did I ever tell you how I learned to decorate the cakes?"

I settled my head against his arm and said, "No."

"Well, I was about ten at the time. My dad had already taught me how to make a cake, which is a lot harder than you'd think, but one day he said to me, 'I'm going to teach you how to frost today.' I was pretty excited about that because I had seen my older brothers frost cakes and I knew they'd sneak fingers of frosting when he wasn't looking. So my dad sat me on the counter and showed me all of the different tools and started naming them off and what they're used for. I tried really hard to memorize the names because I was determined to do a good job."

"Did you?"

"Do a good job?"

"No, sneak some frosting?"

"As a matter of fact I did." Peeta smiled down into my face as I looked up at him. "I did a good job too."

"I know that. I used to take Prim to look at the cakes through the window. Though I didn't know you decorated them back then."

"I know. I used to stand behind the counter and sneak peeks at the two of you," he admitted bashfully.

"I didn't know that."

"Why would you? I was trying to hide."

"I wish you didn't. I wish you had talked to me."

"Do you think you would've talked back?"

I had to think about this. "I don't know." If it were today. If he had tried to talk to me today the answer would be yes, but back then… "Probably not."

"That's what I thought." He swept his finger down my cheek and a shiver ran down my spine again, only this time it hadn't been a result of a nightmare.

"Finish telling me about the cakes." The room was dark, but the moon was bright enough to let me make out the features of Peeta's face, and his eyes seemed to glisten as he spoke. They drew me in along with the mellow tone in his voice.

"My dad showed me how to put a light seal on the cakes and told me how important it was to let that dry."

"You have to seal a cake?" I'd never heard of such a thing.

"Yup. Otherwise when you try to frost it the cake could crumble." I had learned a lot about cakes during this conversation.

"So how do you seal a cake?"

"You brush it with a little bit of sugar water and let it dry, and then you put a very thin coating of icing on it."

"And then you frost it?"

"And then you frost it." He smiled down at me and gave me a squeeze. It made me feel like I was a child again. "Now you'd think frosting a cake would be easy, but it's not."

I didn't know why it would be hard until he described the process to me. Making sure the sides were even. That the top was completely level and that there were even amounts of the confection spread throughout the entire dessert so that the layers didn't teeter to one side.

"The first time I frosted a cake it took me almost three hours to get it right. I had to keep scraping the frosting off and reapplying it. My mother was pretty mad at me, but my dad told her that I had to learn the trade so she really couldn't argue with him."

"So did you decorate it after that?"

"No. My dad put the cake away and told me that I needed to think about the kind of decorations I thought should go on the cake. He said 'draw some pictures of things you think would look pretty on it, Peeta.' So that night I took my paper and pencils and I swear, Katniss I must have sat in my room for over an hour trying to decide what would look pretty on a cake. Pretty wasn't really my strong suit."

"What did you decide on?"

"It was fall, so I thought I'd do something related to the season. I began sketching pictures of leaves. Maple, oak, little pine trees… Then I thought of our apple tree and I drew a picture of an apple, but it didn't look right to me, so the next morning I woke up at the crack of dawn and went outside to study an apple. I started to draw it and when I was done I took my pictures to my dad and said, 'this is what I want to put on the cake.'"

"Did he like the idea?"

"He must have because he taught me how to fill up a pastry bag and how to use the different tips…"

"Tips?"

"Yeah. You have to put these metal tips on the pastry bag and there are different holes at the end of them. When you squeeze the bag it makes a shape."

"Like a leaf?"

"Like a leaf." Peeta snuggled down closer to me, and I found myself moving upward in order to get closer to him. "But there weren't any pastry tips that would form the shape of an apple, so I had to do that one on my own. My father showed me how to do it on a pan and then I practiced. When he was satisfied with it, he let me put it on the cake. When I was done the sides of the cake were covered in autumn colored leaves and I placed apples around the cake in different spots. Then my dad asked me what he should write on it and I had no clue. So right in the center of the cake my father wrote out, 'Fall in Love.'"

"Oh, I like that."

"Yeah, I did too."

"What did your mom think?"

"She actually complimented me on it, but she thought my dad's fall in love thing was stupid. She didn't think anyone would buy it because of what it said."

"Did somebody buy it?"

"Nope. My dad took it upstairs with us that night and told my mom that we made the cake for her. Though I had a sneaky suspicion it was more for him and me."

"So you got to eat it?" My mouth began to water at the thought of the sugary treat which was so rare to those of us raised in the Seam.

"Yup. That was the only cake I ever remember eating as a kid."

"I always thought that you got to eat all of that stuff you had in the bakery." I found out during the first Games that this wasn't the way of it, but I had no clue about his life as a child. I just assumed it was better than mine.

"I wish."

"What was it like for you growing up? The food I mean. Did you always have enough?"

"Not always. I lived in a house with four men so is there ever enough food?" He joked, but I could hear the sadness in his voice.

"We don't have to talk about this, Peeta."

"No, I don't mind. It actually helps me to remember."

"We didn't have enough food after my father died. Not until I got some bread from a very sweet boy." I hugged his torso and said, "Thank you for that, Peeta."

"You're welcome, Katniss." He yawned and told me. "I would've given you the world if I could."

I whispered, "I know." I brushed my hand across his heart and held it there.

We were silent for a little while. Just lying there. Peeta looking at the shadows on the ceiling the moonlight had created, and me looking at Peeta. I saw a tiny smile slowly blooming across his face right before he said to me, "Did you know we Mellarks were all named after bread?"

"I thought maybe you and Whytte were, but not Miche." I rested comfortably against Peeta's shoulder. "And I have no clue what your father's first name was other than mister." Peeta's chuckle caused his chest to rumble, and I had to admit, it felt pretty good being able to bring a smile to his face.

"My dad's name is...was," he corrected himself, "Bing." Peeta looked down at me; I guessed it was to see my reaction to such a strange name.

"Why Bing?"

"I already told you, because it's a tradition in the Mellark family to name their kids after bread. Bing is sort of like flat bread. It's usually made on a pan, but some types can be baked."

"Did you sell it at the bakery?" I didn't ever recall seeing a loaf of bread called Bing when I went to his family's shop.

"No. There really wasn't a big demand for it in Twelve."

"What kind of bread is Miche?" His eldest brother's name was Whytte, and that was pretty self-explanatory, but I had never heard of a loaf of Miche.

Peeta let out another chuckle. "Miche isn't bread. It actually refers to the shape of a loaf. It means, round like a baby's bottom."

I began to picture a baby's butt and thought of Peeta's brother Miche. He and his friends were kind of jerks when we went to school, always tormenting the younger kids. "Your parents must have been fortune tellers, Peeta."

He knit his brows together. "Why do you say that?"

"Because Miche was kind of an ass." I knew I shouldn't have said something degrading about his brother since he was dead and all, but it was the truth. Fortunately Peeta saw the humor in my analogy and let out a loud laugh.

"Yeah he was," Peeta said when his laughter finally died down.

"Peeta. Thank you for coming here tonight."

"You don't need to thank me, Katniss." His fingers drew patterns on my arm and caused me to quiver.

"Goodnight, Peeta." My eyelids began to feel heavy, and the nightmares had temporarily been put to rest.

"Goodnight, Katniss." I felt something warm brush up against my hair. I wasn't sure if he kissed my head or if it was just the warmth of his breath, but whatever it was felt comforting.

"Don't leave without waking me."

We fell asleep in each other's arms, listening to the sounds of the night. Crickets chirped a lullaby as we slept a dreamless sleep.

Notes: Feel free to follow me on tumblr. My screen name is jamiesommers23. And if you want to check out my other stories go to: u/183463/Jamie-Sommers 


	5. Flashback

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Five: Flashback**

**The Road to Recovery**

The sky was dark for an early spring evening, almost black. The air was thick with humidity. I sat in my living room writing about Prim in the book while Haymitch and Peeta played chess. The dinner dishes had just been washed and put away. It had been a quiet day. Peaceful. I was completely taken aback when the chessboard flew across the room and smacked into the wall.

Peeta gripped the arm of the rocker so tightly that his knuckles were white. Haymitch was standing over him and yelling at me to leave the room. Of course I didn't listen. I couldn't. I was in complete shock. _What's going on?_

"Katniss! Get out of here!" Haymitch just kept yelling at me until I finally paid attention to him.

"Why?" My voice was trembling with fear.

"I can't hold him down for too much longer." Haymitch had his knee across Peeta's legs pinning them to the chair.

Without thinking I jumped up and ran to Peeta in an attempt to pull Haymitch off of him. "Stop it! You're hurting him!" Now Haymitch had to battle both Peeta and myself. He lost.

Peeta flung Haymitch onto the ground and stood up so fast the breath caught in my throat. "Leave, Katniss!" He didn't look at me. He just commanded me to go.

"NO!" I ran up to him and put my hands on his wrists. I would've held his hands but they were clenched into balls. "I'm not leaving."

Haymitch got up and tried to pull me off of him again, but I was younger and quicker than him so the elbow I gave him in the gut took him down pretty quickly.

Peeta lifted his face to mine and his eyes bore right through me. "I… might…hurt… you." He was struggling to get each word out.

"I don't care. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you." I pulled him into me, as close as I could, and I started to whisper in his ear. "I won't leave you, Peet,a but I need you to stay with me. Just stay here with me. You can do this. Just listen to my voice. Please, Peeta. Please." I was begging him as gently as I could. "Don't go. Don't leave me." I kissed his cheek and put my forehead against his chin. "Peeta, I need you. I need you." It was sixty, maybe ninety seconds of pure hell. Peeta fighting off the demons the Capitol put in his head while I tried to guide him back home with my voice. When his fists started to relax I loosened up the grip I had on his wrists, but never stopped whispering to him. "We can get through this, Peeta. Just take a few breaths and it'll be over." When his hands opened up I threaded my fingers though his and laid my head against his shoulder. Relief washed over me. He was back. Peeta and I just stood there. Unmoving. While Haymitch watched us from his spot on the floor.

The flash of lightening outside brought us all back from our stupor.

Haymitch stood up and said he needed a drink.

Peeta busied himself with picking up the chess pieces and mumbled an apology, but for some reason his voice sounded sluggish and groggy.

While I stood in the middle of my living room, wondering how long these two men had been keeping this secret from me. I felt anger bubbling up in the back of my mind, and I knew it would have to wait to be addressed. Peeta wasn't strong enough for that, but when he was, he would get an earful from me. So would Haymitch. I had no clue how long these severe flashbacks had been going on, but it was obvious from Haymitch's reaction that he'd been dealing with them for a while.

After the room had been put back in order Peeta left for home. "I should go now before the rain gets too heavy," his voice was still somewhat sluggish.

"Sure," I was still upset that he and Haymitch had chosen to keep the severity of his flashbacks from me, but I was more worried about Peeta being alone. "You don't have to leave though."

"No. I need to paint." With that he rushed from my house and ran through the light raindrops which had begun to fall.

When Haymitch tried to follow, claiming that his flask was empty, I stopped him dead in his tracks. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going home, sweetheart. Like I said, I need a drink."

"I don't think so."

"Think you can stop me?"

"I took you down before and I can do it again so don't push me, Haymitch!" I slammed my front door closed and spun on my heels to accost Haymitch face to face. "You want to tell me how long that's been going on?"

With a disgruntled look on his face, Haymitch answered. "You know how long, Katniss." Since the Capitol hijacked him.

"That's not what I mean and you know it, Haymitch!" Screaming at him felt really good.

"I'm not going to stand here and get yelled at by…"

"Oh, you _are_ going to stand here, and you _are_ going to get yelled at!"

"What good do you think that's going to do the boy?"

"Don't act like you're worried about Peeta. If you were then you would've told me about this."

"It wasn't my place to tell."

"So he's the one that wanted to keep it from me?" I pointed towards Peeta's house in an accusing manor.

Haymitch answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Maybe I should go over there and yell at him then? Think I'd get some answers then?" There was no way I would yell at Peeta after what happened in my living room, but Haymitch didn't know that.

"Go ahead. Go talk to the boy. See where it gets you."

"I'd rather you just tell me." Haymitch didn't fall for my bluff. God how he frustrated me.

"Like I said, not my place to say." With that he turned and started to walk out the door.

_No. He can't leave like this._ I needed answers. "Wait. Please." It took a lot to say please, but I had to find out what was going on with Peeta and how bad the flashbacks were. "Haymitch, what if it happens while he and I are alone? Then what?"

"Well you seem to help him out a hell of a lot better than I ever could."

"How often do you have to try to help him?"

"Katniss," he said this as a warning, but I refused to give up.

"Haymitch, I can't help him if I don't know what's going on."

"You know sweetheart, I actually agree with you, but he's the one that wanted to keep it private. So take it up with him." He stepped out into the rain then turned and said, "Give him a few minutes before you go over there. Let him get himself together."

I watched the clock ticking away like a hawk. When five minutes had passed I ran to Peeta's house, uncertain if he'd even let me in. By that time the rain was coming down in buckets and the walk…run to Peeta's saturated me. I tried the knob, but the door was locked so I started pounding on it. If he had come home to paint then he'd be upstairs and I wanted him to hear me. The door opened within a few seconds of my knock. Obviously he hadn't been painting.

"Katniss!" He grabbed my arm and pulled me into his house. I noticed the way his eyes had sunk into his head, and thought for a moment that I may have woken him up. "What are you doing out in this weather? Are you crazy?"

My clothes were soaked through to my skin. "Legally, I think I'm classified as mentally disoriented." My teeth started to chatter from the cold.

"Let me get you something dry to put on. Come in here."

I followed him to his upstairs bathroom where he preceded to hand me a towel for my hair and then started drying off my back. When I turned around and faced him he handed me the towel and said, "I'll grab you some clothes."

Drying myself off while wearing wet clothes was futile so I waited for Peeta to bring me something dry to put on.

"I've got a long shirt and some pants, but I don't know it the pants will fit." He handed the pile to me and closed the door behind him.

I quickly stripped of my wet clothing, dried myself off and put on Peeta's shirt. The pants were too big so I left them off. Fortunately the shirt covered me to the middle of my thighs, but I still felt naked. I threw my wet garments over a towel rack when I heard a loud crack outside and then the power went out. I stood in complete darkness, still shivering from the cold rain, in Peeta's bathroom.

"Katniss," he called out. "Don't move. I'll be right there." Within a minute Peeta stood at the doorway, his face illuminated by a candle. "The power went out."

"Probably from the storm." _Why do I feel so vulnerable?_

"Here," he handed me the candle. "Take this. I have more in the bedroom."

I followed him to his room, lighting a path for us both. When he lit another candle he turned and just stared at me.

We were about five feet apart, but it felt like the room was closing in on me.

"You're cold, Katniss. Come in here." He set his candle down and lifted a blanket off of his bed. He walked over to me. Took the candle out of my hand and set it down next to his on the nightstand, then wrapped the blanket around me. "Better?"

I nodded my head, yes. I was terrified that if I tried to speak, my teeth would start to chatter, and not from the cold.

"Come on." He led me to his bed and sat me on the edge. "Why don't you sit here and I'll make you some tea."

"Um...umkay," Tea sounded nice, but my stammering on the other hand sounded moronic.

He picked up a candle and rushed out of his room while I sat there just looking out the window at the storm. Every time the lightening would split the sky, I swear I could feel the electricity of it running through me. This whole situation was uncomfortable for me. Confronting Peeta had been my intention for this visit, but now I was sitting in a dark room, practically naked, and I no longer felt the anger that I had when talking with Haymitch. Then again, no one could get me as angry as Haymitch could.

"I don't have tea." Peeta stood in his doorway with a cup of something in his hand. "But I had milk. So I warmed it up for you."

"Thank you." I sipped the warm milk and tasted the honey and spice the Capitol attendant added to the drink on our last train ride.

"I knew you liked it that way," he gestured to the cup with his chin. "I hope you don't mind that I did that."

"No." It was a sweet gesture and I didn't mind at all.

Unsure of what to say I just sat and sipped my milk while Peeta stood in the doorway holding his candle. Neither of us moved until I had emptied my cup.

"Want another?" Peeta asked.

"No thank you." He walked to me and took the empty mug from my hand, sitting it on the nightstand next to the candle.

"Why did you come here, Katniss?" He didn't look at me.

"We needed to talk." _Please look at me, Peeta_.

"There's nothing to talk about." He turned his back to me and began walking out of the room. "I'll sleep on the sofa."

"No!" _Move, Katniss. Get up and pull him here if you have to._ Unfortunately I was frozen in my spot at the edge of the bed.

"It's for the best."

"Don't. Don't tell me what's best for me, okay?"

"You don't understand, Katniss." Finally he turned and looked at me. "I could hurt you."

"I don't believe that." And I didn't. "Peeta. Please. Come here. Sit with me."

I scooted myself to the top of the bed and sat with my legs crossed. When he followed me and took up a mirror image I was grateful. _Now let's get to the bottom of this_.

"Why didn't you tell me about…" I wasn't sure what to call his episodes.

"Me freaking out?"

"That's not what I would call it, but yes. Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"You already had so much you were trying to deal with, Katniss. You didn't need me to add anything to your worries."

"So you thought you could just hide it?"

"No. I figured you'd find out eventually. Maybe Haymitch would tell you or something."

"Haymitch is useless. He wouldn't say a word to me." I was still pretty pissed off about this fact.

"I asked him not to."

"But why?"

"Because…I was afraid…"

I reached out and took his hand in mine. "What were you afraid of?"

He squeezed my hand in his and said, "The monster that you saw today."

"Monster?" I let out a burst of air somewhere between a laugh and frustration. "That was no monster."

"Yes, Katniss. Don't you see?" His voice was pleading with me. "When that happens to me…I don't know what I'll do to you."

"You won't do anything to me."

"How do you know that?" His voice began to rise. "How do you know?"

"Because…." _You love me_, I thought...hoped, but I failed to say it. Instead I mumbled, "I just know."

"Well I'm glad you know, because I'm not too sure sometimes."

We sat quietly for a minute and then I asked him, "How often has this happened?"

"It varies." Peeta's head rested on our hands then he lifted it up and answered. "When I tried to draw Darius the first time, it happened a lot. That outburst I had when you followed me back home was just the tip of the iceberg. Haymitch helped me through it."

"Yes. Haymitch." This rubbed me the wrong way. "Why didn't you come to me? I could've helped you through it."

"I didn't know what I would do to you, Katniss. I was sure that you were the reason Darius was tortured." The pain in his voice cut through me.

I was. I was the reason a lot of people were killed and tortured. I was the reason Peeta was still being tortured, but I refused to let the Capitol continue to win. "I want you to tell me from now on. I want to help you." I squeezed his hands in my own.

"I'm not sure about that, Katniss."

"Well I am!" I shouted.

"You don't know what you're asking."

"Yes, I do."

"What happens if I do something to you? I'd never forgive myself." His voice was breaking up and his eyes began filling with tears.

"You didn't do anything to me today, and I helped you through it." I ran my hand across his cheek and smiled sadly into his eyes.

"But Haymitch was there to…"

"Haymitch was a useless lump. One elbow to the gut and he was on the floor."

Peeta's eyes picked up a bit. "Is that why he was lying there? I thought I did that to him."

"Nope. It was me." I was very proud of this fact.

"You shouldn't have done that. What if you needed him to protect you?"

"Will you stop it!" I was totally frustrated with this whole song and dance. "I am not fragile. I am not going to break if you touch me. I can handle it." I could tell I was getting nowhere with him so I decided to use another tactic. "We're going to play a game."

Obviously Peeta hadn't expected me to suggest playing a game in the middle of this conversation. "I don't want to play a game."

"Too bad. We're playing anyway." I scooted closer to him until our knees were touching and said, "It's called Real or Not Real."

"Katniss, I don't need to play that anymore. I know what's real and what's not...for the most part."

"Fine. Then you'll be good at this game. Ready?"

"I don't want to play."

"Well, we're playing." I settled myself in and said, "There's just one thing though. I'll be asking the questions and you'll be telling me if it's real or not real."

He questioned this with his eyes, but I didn't stop.

"On our first day of school I sang the valley song and you fell in love with me. Real or not real?" I was holding my breath.

His shoulders slumped as he choked out, "Real."

"You told me that story while we were in the first arena?"

"Real." His fingers were playing with the hem of my shirt and goosebumps broke out along my bare legs.

The candlelight seemed to accentuate his eyelashes when he blinked. It was very distracting. "You joined the Careers in the first arena to protect me?"

"Real."

"You stayed awake all night…" the memory of this caused me to catch my breath. "You stayed awake all night under the tracker jacker tree to make sure I escaped the Careers?"

He kissed our joined hands. "Real."

"You volunteered for the Quell to keep me safe?" The question unexpectedly came out as a whisper.

"Real." He whispered back.

I lifted his hand to my face and kissed his wrist. "You'd die for me?" My eyes met his and I knew the answer as I always did.

"Real."

We were on our knees and holding each other instantly. His lips kissing the curve between my shoulder and my neck. My kiss on his ear as I whispered. "You'd never hurt me, Peeta. Never."

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I'm so sorry." He was squeezing me so tight, I was afraid he'd feel the rapid beating of my heart.

"Don't," I pulled back far enough to see his face. "Don't you ever apologize for what the Capitol did to you. It's not your fault. None of it is. Just don't keep things from me anymore, okay?"

He nodded and we held onto each other until our desperate clinging turned into gentle caresses. His hands slowly trailed up my back, down my hips, up my arms. And I couldn't stop touching his hair. I just kept threading my fingers through it. Until finally Peeta pulled away. His face was slightly flushed and for a moment I thought this was it, this was when he was going to actually kiss me. We had shared kisses before, but they were mostly staged..._I think_. But Peeta didn't kiss me. Not on my lips anyway. He pulled the hands, that were still dragging paths down the back of his scalp, away and placed a tender kiss upon in the inside wrist of each one. _Good God does he know how to kiss. Even his pecks shake my knees._

"It's late."

"Yeah." _I don't really care_.

"We should get some sleep."

_I don't want to slee_p. "Okay."

"Should I…" He cleared his throat. "Should I sleep downstairs?"

"No." _Dear, God. No._

We lay down next to each other when I looked up at him and said, "Peeta. We can get through this together."

"Yeah." He looked down at me and kissed my forehead. "We can get through anything together."

I believed this too. With all my heart.

**Thank you for reading and reviewing and than you to A for being so good to me. Stop by my tumblr page and drop me a line if you like my name is jamiesommers23 if you have any questions you'd like answered that's the place to ask them. Toodles!**


	6. Reaping Day

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Six: Reaping Day**

**I want to say thank you for reading or rereading this story. I appreciate it. To those of you that have read it before, you will notice some major additions to it as well as tweaking. To those of you that haven't read it, I do hope you enjoy it. Thank you A for the hard work. You give and you give and get nothing in return but my thanks. Here's a squishy and more thanks. SQUISHY MORE THANKS! **

**The Road to Recovery**

Some days were brutal. Some days you woke up and the day felt never ending. Everything you touched, saw, smelled… Everything reminded you of the ones you've lost. This had been one of those days for me. From the moment I woke up I felt the loss of my father and my sister everywhere. I didn't want to go hunting because it made me think of my father. Staying at home made me think of Prim. Even Finnick had been on my mind. As the morning progressed I thought of Wiress. Of Mags. Of Rue. My thoughts always came back to Rue. Peeta came by, but I told him I didn't feel well. Haymitch stopped by and I told him to leave me alone. I even told Greasy Sae not to bother cooking for me. Today I hadn't felt like talking to anyone. Today I just needed to let the sadness consume me and mourn. Today, I realized, was reaping day.

Children no longer had to get dressed in their best clothing and stand in a crowd. They didn't have to wait to hear their name called off from a slip of paper that was placed in a bowl, and they no longer had to battle to the death for the entertainment of the Capitol. Yet the day still held a somber tone.

I turned on the television set for a minute and no program was on. Only the faces of the children that were murdered in the arena. Under their picture was their name, the year they were born and the year they died. No words were spoken. No music played. Just the pictures of the children. Plutarch actually did me proud with this tribute. It was respectful. Not something that was created for ratings. As I shut the television off I saw Foxface and my world crumbled. I cried. I cried for Foxface. For Rue. For Cato and Clove. I cried for all of the tributes that went into the arena and never came out. For the children that never had a chance. For the families that lost their children, and for the victors who had to live with their blood on their hands.

When Peeta's arms wrapped around me, I didn't move. His silent tears joined mine and together we endured the massive loss. Most of them were strangers to us. Yet somehow we were so close to them. We shared a bond.

Haymitch came back to my house shortly after and we all sat around the kitchen table. He turned on the television, and when I told him to shut it off he said, "We survived, Katniss. They didn't. The least we can do is show our respect." I nodded in agreement. We didn't stare at it, but each one of us looked at the television on occasion.

At Two o'clock, the time we'd normally have to gather for the reaping, we turned our attention to the television set and saw Rue's photo. I wanted to turn away from it, but I couldn't. I kept choking back the tears, wishing for the day to end, but it just continued on.

When the girl from District Eight came up, the one that Peeta finished off during the Games, he turned from the screen and pounded his fist against the wall. I rubbed his back and turned him into my arms. He killed her for me. She died, a complete stranger to us, died so I could live. It was revolting.

Many times during the day we'd find each other's arms. Clinging onto the other for dear life. After all, that's what we fought for. Our lives. Not just mine, but his as well. It was what we were still fighting for.

As the day progressed my thoughts kept going back to this boy. Peeta. This sweet, kind man that would've died for me. That almost died trying to protect me. That did die in the second arena, only to be brought back to life. I was grateful he was here. So thankful he stayed by my side. I imagined what it would be like to see his face on the television screen, and the thought was so repugnant I had to push it out of my mind. I reached for his hand and pulled it to my face. I just needed to feel his pulse. Know that his heart was beating. He pulled me gently into his embrace and whispered in my ear. "I know… I know…" I felt his lips against my temple as my fingers dug into his back. I couldn't pull him close enough.

At dinner time, Greasy Sae came over with a pot of stew and left right away. Peeta dished some out for us, but none of us touched it. We sat quietly at the table. Patiently. Waiting for tomorrow to begin. It couldn't come quick enough.

During the course of the day we saw the images of Mags, Wiress, Chaff, Glimmer… The list seemed endless. Haymitch, I realized, had the worst of it. He knew so many more of these tributes than we did. He had mentored over fourty of them, and befriended those that were in the second arena with Peeta and me.

When Maysilee Donner's face appeared Haymitch left the table, walked into the living room and stared at the screen. I knew how hard he took her death. She died in his arms. Like Rue died in mine. I went into my bedroom and took out my mockingjay pin. I closed my fists around it, said a silent thank you to Maysilee and took it downstairs to him. When I placed it in his hand I told him, "It belonged to Maysilee. I want you to have it. She would've wanted you to have it." He held onto it and just nodded his thanks to me. It was the first time I'd ever seen him cry.

We sat in the living room and watched the television screen light up with different faces until 11:59pm when they put something on the screen saying: Honorable Mentions and showed Finnick then followed it up with Prim. Neither one of them died in the arena, but their deaths were ultimately caused by the Games. The television went black. Peeta pulled me into his arms and I cried silently. I don't know when Haymitch left, but it wasn't long before Peeta took me upstairs and we crawled under the covers. It was 12:15 in the morning and reaping day was over. No children were taken away to their deaths. No one had to say a tearful goodbye to their parents. And in District Four Annie gave birth to a baby boy.

My mother called at 12:45 in the morning telling us about Finnick and Annie's son. He was born at 11:00pm and named after his father. Annie had spent the whole day in labor with my mother at her side.

An hour after my mother's call, Peeta and I went back to bed. As we lay in the darkness I thought about the day's events and how the meaning of this day would forever be changed.

"Wow," Peeta said softly. "A baby boy."

"Yeah." I felt the smile creep up on my face.

"And he'll never be reaped."

Of this I wasn't sure. It was still hard to believe. I was certain that things could go back to the way they used to be. That one day the Games would return.

"Would you do it?" He asked.

"Do what?"

"Have a baby."

"No." How could I? If the Games came back my child would be in the arena for sure.

"I'd like to have kids one day."

"Aren't you afraid?"

"I used to be. I swore I wouldn't have kids. Not in the world we lived in. But we don't live in that world anymore. So yeah… I'd like to have a couple…one day."

"I don't think I ever could, Peeta."

"That's okay, Katniss. I'm sure your husband would be happy just living his life with you and you alone." He looked down at me and I knew he was speaking from his heart. He brushed the hair out of my eyes and said, "Just you." He leaned down and kissed me so gently. It was a soft brush of his lips. A kiss of hope. I didn't protest it. I didn't want to. I wanted him to kiss me again, but he didn't.

"Katniss?" His voice had a dreamlike quality to it.

"Yes?"

"Do you think that Finnick planned this?" I lifted my face to his. "Like somewhere out there he wanted his son to be born on reaping day? So Annie wouldn't have to go through what we went through today? So she'd have something to celebrate instead of something to grieve for?"

I smiled. It was such a promising thought. My hand found Peeta's under the covers and I pulled it around me. "Wouldn't that be something?" It was that moment that I realized exactly how much I loved Peeta. How much I had always loved him. My stomach began to feel like someone was churning butter inside of it at my conclusion. I loved Peeta Mellark.

I lifted my gaze to Peeta and found him looking down at me. My bedroom window was halfway open allowing the evening sounds to float in. The moon was acting as nature's nightlight, as were the stars flickering in the dark sky, highlighting Peeta's facial features. He lifted his hand to cup my cheek gently caressing my skin with the tips of his fingers. Slowly his hand began to drift downward, his fingertips brushing feathery strokes against the side of my neck while his thumb grazed my slightly parted lips. My insides were trembling from his tender touch. My eyelids began to flutter as his intense gaze held my own, and from out of nowhere, I puckered my lips, and placed a soft kiss against the pad of his thumb. His expression went from inquisition to shock within a matter of seconds. He removed his hand from my skin and let it rest on the mattress. Our eyes were still locked, neither one of us able to break the bond. As if testing a theory Peeta lifted his head off of the pillow and placed his closed lips against my own. They were perfectly still as mine puckered and pressed a tender peck against his mouth. We didn't close our eyes, and Peeta kept his lips unresponsive as I kissed him. I held my lips against his in a steady kiss waiting for him to react. I watched as his eyes registered the magnitude of my actions. After about thirty seconds, Peeta pulled away from me, almost in slow motion, and began looking around the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" I asked him in a completely befuddled state.

"Looking for the camera." When his eyes drifted towards mine with humor in them I clamped my lips tightly closed trying to bite back my smile.

"I've got one hiding in the closet. It's actually been in there for months just waiting for something like this to happen," my attempt at a joke was rewarded with a smile.

Peeta lay his head back down on the pillow, curled his arm behind my back and tucked his free hand behind his head. I waited for him to make some sort of move. To initiate another kiss, but he didn't. A million thoughts began to race through my head. _You've hurt him too many times. He hasn't forgiven you for pretending you had feelings for him in the first arena. He hates you because you chose Gale over him._ That's when it hit me. I had chosen Gale over Peeta too many times before. I had spent my time doling out kisses to both of them at the same time, trying to decide who it was I wanted. Now it was time for Peeta to decide if he wanted me.

It would have been easy to lay my head against his chest and pretend that nothing had happened. Acting like there was nothing between me and Peeta had come so easily to me in the past, but things were different now. I no longer wanted to pretend so I lifted myself up, curled my hand against his cheek, and kissed him again. Letting him know that I wanted this. Though I wasn't quite sure what 'this' was that I wanted, I knew kissing him and changing the nature of our relationship was an important step for me to take on our rocky path back to rebuilding our lives. This time Peeta kissed me back. It was a few pecks at most, but what they represented meant a great deal to our budding relationship.

When we pulled apart Peeta smiled into my eyes, threaded his fingers through the hair above my ear, and blew out a breath. I thought maybe he'd say something to me about me kissing him, but the only thing he said was, "Goodnight, Katniss."

"Goodnight, Peeta," I tucked my head against his chest, and curled myself against him. I wasn't sure what time he fell asleep, but I hadn't fallen asleep for a couple more hours wondering if I had done the right thing and replaying the entire day's events in my mind. When I woke up in the morning I could feel his eyes looking down at me and instantly regretted my actions the night before_. Obviously he doesn't want that type of relationship with you anymore. _I'm not sure how I came to this conclusion without even looking at Peeta, but it's what I had decided in that split millisecond of time._ But he kissed you first_. Arguing with myself had instantly become the next sanest option. _Maybe you should talk to him about it? See what he thinks?_ Since sanity and I had been on _such_ good terms as of late, I chose that moment to face Peeta. Unsure of what to say, I slowly turned my face towards his and held my breath. As it turned out, I didn't have to say a thing. Peeta didn't give me a chance to. His lips were on mine within a split second.

At first contact, I wasn't quite sure what was happening. Peeta was kissing me… _Oh my God. Peeta's kissing me._ Granted it was a pretty chaste kiss compared to a few of the others we had shared in the past, the one on the beach immediately came to mind, but it was enough to let me know that he understood my offer the night before.

His hands got lost in my hair as I rested mine against his shoulders. I don't know why we both decided to start this habit of kissing each other with our eyes open. Maybe to make sure what was happening was real? That we weren't putting on a show? Maybe there was a hidden truth behind his joke about the cameras.

We spent about two or three minutes sharing some very gentle, very timid kisses before Peeta pulled away and said, "I needed to make sure."

"Of what?" I asked.

"That this was really happening." A slight blush climbed up his cheeks. "Guess I'm just not used to you being the one to initiate a real kiss."

"I've kissed you plenty of times," I said to him in my defense, not wanting to take offense to his accusation.

"I said, _real_," he dragged the word out before letting a sad chuckle escape. "You want some breakfast?"

"I guess," I rolled over and hid my face in the pillow not wanting him to see the pain that had registered there from his all too accurate assessment at one of my many failings.

"What do you want?"

"Whatever you're making," I said with a bit of a snarly tone.

"Boiled pine bark it is." I rolled over and threw my pillow at the back of his head as he made his way into the bathroom. The pillow hit the door as he closed it and let out a laugh behind it.

"Boiled pine bark," I grumbled into my bed. I never wanted to eat pine anything ever again.

"Want some pancakes?" He called out to me through the closed door.

I had only had pancakes twice before, both times at the Capitol. We never had enough flour to waste on something as fancy as a pancake. I have had maple syrup though. We had used that to sweeten our hot grain as a treat on special occasions. "Pancakes sound good." I waited until he opened the door before asking, "Do you know how to make them?"

"I think so," he was washing his hands, and I couldn't help but stare at the profile of his bare torso. He had put on quite a lot of weight since being rescued from the Capitol. The V shape of his torso had come back as did some of the muscles he had before we went into the arena. "Like what you see?"

"Huh?" He had caught me staring at him and faced me directly. "Oh…uh…I was just thinking you look a lot healthier now."

"Healthier?" He padded up to the bed and bent over me. "Is that your way of saying you like my body?" He stared down into my shocked and exceptionally red face. "I'm kidding, Katniss." He placed a quick kiss against my cheek. "Go get dressed and be at my place in a half an hour. I'll have your breakfast waiting." He pulled on his shirt and shoes. "We'll go into town after breakfast, 'kay?"

"Sure." I stayed in bed until I heard the door shut downstairs. "Get a hold of yourself Katniss," I shook my head at my reflection the second I sat up and saw it across the room in the mirror. "Ugh," I hung my head down in my hands and tried not to puke at how horrible I looked. My hair was a wild mess. I hadn't bothered braiding my hair the day before, nor did I take a brush to it. My face looked puffy and streaked from the tears I had shed the day before. My eyes were bloodshot and the nightshirt I had grabbed in haste off the floor had a large red stain above the breast from some jam that fell onto it a couple of days earlier. I walked to the phone and called Peeta as soon as I judged he'd be home. "I need to take a shower so I might be a few minutes late."

"That's okay. I think these might take a little longer than I thought anyway. It's my first time making them."

"Okay," I wondered how he knew how to make them if he had never done it before. "See you in a little while." I heard the sound of flipping pages in the background.

"Sounds good. Oh, remember I don't have tea so if you want some, bring it with you. In case you're wondering, I want chamomile."

"I don't know if I have chamomile?"

"Pantry. Second shelf, behind the small sugar canister."

"Oh…uh, okay. I'll bring the tea."

"And the maple syrup."

"I'm going to go ahead and assume I have that too."

"Pantry, left side…one…two," he began counting to himself. "Fourth shelf from the bottom there's some bottles. You'll see sunflower oil, a bottle of honey and some jelly. Behind those will be a bottle of maple syrup. Bring it."

"How do you know what's in my pantry?" I asked with a crinkled brow.

"Who do you think has been cooking every meal for you since the fish and katniss?"

"I'll take a stab in the dark and say it hasn't been Greasy Sae." Now that I thought of it, the day before when she brought the stew had been the first time I had seen her bringing me food in a while. "Chef. I'll add that to the list."

"What list?" I could hear the sound of pots and pans clinking and knew Peeta was making progress with our breakfast.

"Painter, baker, victor, ally, friend…chef," I answered him, leaving a few things intentionally out.

"I think I remember that list and as I recall I had hunter, lover and fiancé on it too, and it was _my_ descriptive list of words for _you_, not the other way around."

"I started my own list," I leaned closer to the mirror across the room and made a face at myself. "I really need to go if you want me to come over there at any point in time this morning. From the looks of this rat's nest on my head, washing my hair might be something of a chore today."

"How about I bring the pancakes to you, then you won't have to worry about finding the syrup and the tea?"

"Either way," I shrugged. "If I finish first, I'll come there. If not—"I let the implication hang in the air.

"Okay. See you soon, and Katniss—"

"Yeah?"

"I wouldn't care if you came here with your head shaved. You're always beautiful." I remembered a time when he told me that I wasn't very pretty, and I was thrilled that that person was gone for the most part.

"See you in a little while." I hung up the phone and pressed my hands against the nightstand trying to compose myself. _He thinks you're beautiful again_. I lifted a hand to my face and smiled, telling myself to hurry up and get dressed. _Peeta's waiting_.

I could smell breakfast the second I opened up the bathroom door. The aroma of bacon, maple and pancakes wafted up the stairs of my large house and lingered in the air. My mouth began to water. I tugged the towel off of my head and reached for the brush on the counter, tugging it through the knotted mess in a hurry. My clothing was piled on the large burgundy armchair next to the tiny marble table with a lamp and some sort of decorative vase filled with colored crystals and dark blue water. _How is it that the water never evaporates?_ I looked at it inquisitively before lifting my arms to braid my hair. I didn't hear his footsteps, which was a first considering Peeta sounded like he was pounding every time his foot hit the floor; I was sort of distracted thinking about the fact that Peeta had kissed me that morning. That I had kissed him the night before. I had never really given more than two or three of our kisses any thought. Truthfully I didn't know what I'd find once I delved into that aspect of our lives. Would I discover that there was no emotion behind the vast majority of our kisses, or would I see what the entire world thought they had seen? A young girl falling in love. Yeah, it was time to put thoughts like that out of my head. There was no way I was ready to face that. With my decision made, and my hair almost completely braided, I decided to concentrate on breakfast.

"Hey, I brought… Oh, geez," Peeta's voice had me turning towards him. "Sorry. Sorry," he apologized, but I really didn't know why until I looked down and noticed that I was still wearing a towel and it was barely hanging on. "I…uh…" he lifted the tray he was carrying in his hands. "I brought you breakfast. Thought we could eat it on the balcony."

I snatched up my clothes, held the towel up, and walked back into the bathroom without saying a peep.

By the time I got out and joined him on the balcony that looked out over my backyard, Peeta was sipping at his tea, and his flushed cheeks had turned back to their normal color. "Sorry it took me so long." I started with an apology because I really had been sorry. If I had hurried up and not tried to comb that deep conditioning crap through my hair that Octavia sent to me from the Capitol to help repair the damage it withstood after the bombs went off, I would have been able to go to Peeta's house, but the directions said to leave it in for ten minutes before rinsing it out and it really was helping my hair. Not that I was one for glamor or beauty, but I always liked my hair. My father used to say that my hair was like spun chestnut colored silk. I had no clue what that meant at the time, but it sounded nice, and now that I knew what silk was, it reminded me of Cinna too, so I took care with my hair.

I lifted up the cover Peeta put over my plate to keep my food warm with anticipation. "Wow, this looks really good." Peeta got up and pulled my chair out for me. I could feel my face squishing together in confusion at his kind gesture. "Since when do you pull my chair out for me?" I sat down and felt him push it under me.

"Since I decided to stop acting like a coward and start doing the things I've always wanted to do," he took his seat. "Hope they turned out okay," he pointed to the pancakes on my plate. "Like I said, this was the first time I've ever made them."

"Did your parents teach you how to make them?" I poured the maple syrup over it, still not accustomed to using more than a half of teaspoon full simply for the purposes of sweetening my grain.

"My parents?" Peeta let out a laugh. "No. They would have never wasted flour on something like pancakes. Too valuable."

"Then how did you learn to make them?"

"A cookbook." He cut into a piece of his pancake with a fork and lightly dipped in into a little bowl of maple syrup.

"You know it works better if you just dump the syrup onto the pancakes."

"I know. It's just that..." Peeta made a face, "…I'm not crazy about sweets, and maple syrup is exceptionally sweet."

I let out a laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked me.

"A baker that doesn't like sweets? That's pretty funny."

"That's why I don't like sweets."

"That sounds like it would be an interesting story."

"Want me to tell it to you?"

He offered and though I did want him to tell me, I said no anyway. "You can tell me about it the next time I need you to get my mind off of my nightmares," it sounded like a great idea to me.

"You've got a deal." He pointed at my plate with his fork. "Now hurry up and eat so we can start our day."

"I take it I have plans today?"

"Told you before…I want to go to town."

"Oh, that's right." I sipped at my tea. "Mmmm, this is good."

"You didn't have any more chamomile tea, and I saw this package of rose-hip so I took a chance." Peeta sipped at his. "Never had it before?"

I shook my head, "No." I set the cup down on the table and looked across my balcony. "I saw the box of it in the pantry after I got back to Twelve, I guess Greasy Sae bought it, but once I saw the name… I just couldn't drink it."

Peeta took the cup from in front of me and stood up. "I'll make you something else," his voice was serious.

"No," I reached out my hand to stop him from walking away with our tea cups. "Peeta, it's silly. It's not like the tea tastes like roses or anything."

"It was stupid of me to make this. I wasn't thinking." The expression on his face read guilt.

"Peeta, stop it." I ran one hand over his forearm and with the other I reached for my tea. "I really like it so please don't dump it out." His eyes met mine. "Sit down. Let's drink our tea and then we can go to town and buy you some."

"And we'll get you some milk," he decided to sit back down.

"I have milk," I knew I had seen an almost full bottle of the white stuff.

"Katniss that wasn't milk. That was some sort of science experiment."

"Was it bad?" _Come to think of it, I don't think I've had any milk to drink in days other than Peeta's house._

"I poured some in a cup and it came out in chunks." Peeta stuck his tongue out. "Pretty disgusting, Katniss."

"Sorry. I'm not really very good at keeping track of the stuff in my kitchen." I ate the last bite of my breakfast. "Either you or Greasy Sae has been cooking for me, or before that it was my mother. The only time I really cooked was when I went to the woods for the day and I usually just roasted something over an open fire. I used to cook after my father died but..." I didn't want to think about that time period of my life and how my mother had lost the ability to function. It hit too close to home. I had no problem letting the entire thing drop.

"Maybe you should learn how," he suggested. "I could teach you if you wanted."

I gave him face and said, "Blech." To which he laughed. "I really hate domesticated crap like that. I'm not good at it."

"That's why I've offered to teach you."

"Let me rephrase that. I don't want to learn how to do that domesticated crap." With our meals completed we stood up and began piling our dirty dishes onto the tray he had used to carry our food upstairs. "Some women are good at this stuff and others are…well…" I tried to explain. "My mother always tried to teach me how to do things around the house claiming it was a good wife's job to keep their home clean and make sure dinner is ready for her husband."

"Are you serious?" Peeta gave me a strange look.

"I know, right?"

"I would think that it's both the husband and the wife's job to keep their home in shape and cook meals. What about all those women that have to go to work? Are they just supposed to come home and start working at another job just because she became someone's wife?" Peeta placed the tray on the counter while I filled the sink up with soapy water.

I shrugged before getting down to business and cleaning the mess Peeta created in the kitchen. "I think she thought of being a wife and a mother as her job or something because she didn't have one outside of our house."

"I thought she was a healer." Peeta dried and put away the dishes while I washed and then we both worked on counters and floors.

"She didn't really do much of that when my dad was alive. Mostly if someone was desperate or something and they couldn't afford to go to the actual doctor," I told him.

With the kitchen cleaned Peeta and I prepared for our walk to town. "How much stuff do you need to get?" I gestured towards a closet. "I've got an extra bag in there if you want to use it for your stuff."

"Sure. Thanks." He took out the bag my mother used to use to carry her supplies in when she went to town.

Peeta picked up our conversation as soon as we left the house. "I knew your mom was a healer, but I wasn't sure if she did that full time while you were growing up."

I stuck my hand in his outstretched one and we walked to town. "I thought you knew everything about me?" I teased him. "You certainly acted like you did." I gave him a little bump on the hip with my own.

"I _wanted_ to know everything about you, but it's not like I could have just walked into the Seam and started asking questions." Peeta lifted my hand to his lips and placed a kiss against the back of it causing the tiny hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.

We spent the rest of our walk in silence, our linked hands swinging between us.

"Where to first?" I asked him.

"Um, the general market?" He pulled out a sheet of paper from his back pocket. "I have a list of things I need. Don't let me forget the tea. I forgot to write that down."

We entered the market with Peeta's list in hand and a wire basket they provided to put your items in while you shopped. Peeta picked up basic things like soap, toilet paper and a couple of toothbrushes. "What are those for?" I asked him. "Do we need new ones?"

"I thought we'd leave one at the other's house in case we slept over. That's why I'm getting the soap and stuff too," he grabbed a bottle of shampoo and put it in the basket.

"Plan on moving in?" I was only joking.

"Not yet." My feet froze in place. "Let's go to the butcher next." Peeta began walking ahead of me, but I was stuck. "Are you coming?" he looked back at me.

"Um…yeah."

"Good. I'd hate to leave you here in the middle of the store with your mouth hanging open. I might find this whole," he made a motion with his finger up and down my body, "scared of your own shadow thing, kind of cute, but other people might think you've lost your mind."

I scowled at him. "You're not moving in with me, and I'm not moving in with you."

He let out a loud laugh. "Oh, God, Katniss. I was teasing you." He tugged my hand. "Come on."

It was hard for me to take this as a joke, but Peeta seemed to be having a good time at my expense. "Now you have to buy me candy," I sounded like a spoiled child, but I wanted some licorice whips and since Peeta was being a smart ass it was only fair that he bought them for me.

"What kind?" The hair on my arms stood up when he asked me that. Not because he agreed to it, but the way he looked at me...looked through me, it was a little more than I could take at that particular moment in time. Like he had somehow figured out what I had only just hours before. That I loved him. For a second I thought I was completely transparent. That he could read it all over my face, and then he asked, "Peppermint? Chocolate? Name your poison."

"Lic-" I cleared my throat when my mouth stopped working.

"Lick? As in, Peeta I want something to lick?" My jaw dropped. "They've got those spiral, rainbow colored lollipops if that's what you're interested in," he pulled me to the corner of the sweet shop and pointed out a few things, but I was still in shock over his choice of words. "We'll get you one of those small ones, and..." he looked around the shop completely oblivious to my stellar performance of a bumbling fool. "Ooh, ever have these? Effie gave me a couple once. They're called chocolate covered coffee beans. Normally I'm not big on candy or coffee, but I like these." Peeta dropped my hand and went to find the proprietor of the store while I stood there in a lame attempt to get myself together.

_What is wrong with me lately? Why can't I stop these demented thoughts from going through my mind? _I dried my exceptionally sweaty palms on my pant legs, took a deep breath and blurted out, "Licorice," as soon as he came back.

"Oh...okay. Licorice," he bit at the bottom corner of his lip and I suddenly wished it were me doing that.

_Stop it, Katniss_. I shook it off. "The red ones."

"You want the ones that look like shoelaces or the thick nugget looking things?" Peeta stood next to the case ready to place the order with the shop owner.

"Laces."

"Can I get a handful of those red shoe laces please?" Peeta asked and leaned on the counter waiting for our order to be bagged up. "So how have things been going for you since you moved back?"

"Pretty good. How about yourself?" The shop owner got into a casual conversation with Peeta while I waited to get the hell out of there and head home. There was a rock in my backyard that I needed to crawl under. "...all talking about it. You really should reopen the bakery. No one around here can bake like you." My ears suddenly picked up on their topic.

I could see the tension in Peeta's jaw...the way the little knot began to form at the hinge. "Peeta, I really need to get going. We've got a lot to do today." Anyone that knew Peeta prior to the hijacking and escaped to Thirteen with us probably would've guessed as to what was about to happen, but they wouldn't completely understand, and those that were new to the district would probably run and hide. "Let's go," I grabbed Peeta's hand and pulled him forcefully out of the store leaving the change on the counter. "Let's go home." There were other things we needed to stop and get, but the most important thing to me now was getting Peeta to a safe environment and away from prying eyes. "Please, Peeta," I started to beg him when he froze in place. His entire body stiffened up, his eyes turned dark and stormy as he looked across the Town Square at his old home. At the place where he was raised and his family was murdered. Not quite sure of how Peeta would react, I stepped in front of his line of sight and held onto the sides of his face, forcing him to look at me instead. "Thank you for the candy, Peeta. That was kind of you." I fumbled for something else to say. "I don't suppose you want to go to your place and sketch me?" He always liked doing that in the past for some reason and lately I noticed he'd been doing it again. The offer was obviously tempting to him since his eyes flashed towards mine. "I'll pose for you if you want. Just tell me how you want me and I'll do it," my heart began pounding against my chest as his face slowly went from one of terror to one filled with an emotion I hadn't yet been willing to face.

"Will you let me hold you instead?" His voice was barely audible.

"Yes," my tone matched his.

"Take me home, Katniss," he whispered.

"Come on," I led him back to Victor's Village, but instead of going to his place, we went to mine. Peeta dumped the bag on the table, which we both ignored, and we walked straight to the sofa. "Lie down," I said against his ear as we held onto one another.

Peeta slipped his shoes off and lay stretched out upon the sofa. There was plenty of room for me to slide up next to him, but he pulled me down on top of him and tucked my head under his chin. "Just let me hold you this way for a little while, okay?"

It was strange putting my complete body weight on top of him, but nice too. "Okay," I agreed. I knew he wanted to hold me like that for his own benefit, but the way he made me feel by trailing hands up and down my back told me that I was making out like a bandit in this situation as well. "Want to take a nap? We only got a couple of hours sleep last night." We only got a couple of hours sleep every night, but that was beside the point.

"No. I can't sleep. I can't..." his voice started to get thick with emotion and I knew without even looking that Peeta had started to cry. With each silent tear that ran down his cheeks I felt myself drowning deeper into his sorrow. "I barely even spoke to them at the end. I was so afraid of what might happen to them," I knew he was speaking about his family and wanting to keep them out of Snow's reach. "I used to think to myself, if I die it's going to hurt them, but you know what?" I looked up into his eyes. "I knew...when we were on the beach that night talking and I said no one needed me...I knew they might be sad for a little while, but they'd be just fine without me, and the worst part is" he gulped, "I'll be fine without them, Katniss. Eventually…I'll be fine without…"

"Oh, Peeta," I pressed a kiss against his lips which tasted of salt, to help bring him some sort of comfort. I had no idea what it was like to experience that kind of pain. An almost lack of pain. To hurt for people because you didn't love them as much as I loved Prim.

"Katniss, what does that say about me?" He just stared into my eyes, and I wanted to answer his question…I really did, but I couldn't find the right words. "It must say I'm a pathetic excuse for a human being."

"No. No," I ran my hand over his cheek. "Don't say those things about yourself."

"It's pretty obvious by your silence, Katniss."

"Is that what you think?" I frantically shook my head. "Peeta," how did I make him understand that finding the right words were difficult for me? "Don't you remember? I'm not good at saying something." I hoped he understood that I wasn't saying anything because I simply didn't know what to say.

"Yes you are," he continually pushed a piece of hair over my ear. "When you really want to, you know exactly what to say."

"It's a rarity."

Peeta's eyes drifted closed, he inhaled a deep breath through his nostrils, and blew it out through a tiny opening between his lips. When he opened up his eyes and held my gaze I could feel it burrowing a hole through me. With his head tilted slightly to the side, he lifted it off of the sofa cushion and pressed his lips against my own. "Katniss," his throaty whisper between our soft kiss had me swallowing over and over again. Before I knew it, he rolled me to my side, draped his leg over mine, and held one hand behind my back and the other behind my neck. The next kiss we shared was far from the chaste ones we had shared before. His mouth parted against mine and his tongue swiped between the seam of my lips.

There were several times Peeta had kissed me this way before, and when he did, I felt this tightening in my chest, my heart would start to race, and I found myself full of need for…something, I just didn't know what that something was. There was only one big difference between the other kisses that brought on those feelings and this kiss...there were no cameras filming our every move. No one was watching to see how I'd react to him, or how far he would take it. No one tuning to their television sets listening to our breathing as it grew ragged and choppier.

Peeta slid his tongue deeper into my mouth and began this slow and languid motion that reminded me of the way he swirled the tip of his paintbrush across the canvas in fluid strokes. Since I hadn't been too experienced in this sort of kissing, the majority of the ones I shared with him had never really involved us using his tongue, and Gale's kisses were always closed mouthed. The one time Gale did poke his tongue into my mouth, I immediately pulled away. During this particular kiss I chose to mimic Peeta's actions, dipping and swirling my tongue, getting it playfully tangled with his and in less than a minute our heads were tilting, my hands were cupping his face while his were roaming up and down my back…arms…over my hip… They skimmed across my shoulders and up my neck while mine slowly moved upwards allowing my fingers to get lost in his hair. Our mouths grew hot and slippery as our lips began to swell. The length of our bodies pressed against each other. My leg that had been tucked between his moved out of some sort of instinct and soon my knee was pressing into his upper thigh, and the muscles in his whole body stiffened. The eyes we had tightly closed were now opened and exploring the other's expression. Peeta's eyes were as bright as a summer sky after the rain, and though I couldn't see my own, I knew they were filled with the storm that was gradually building up in my body. I could hear this strange noise coming from between our kiss, a whimpering of sorts and it came as a complete shock to both of us when we realized that it was coming from me. Peeta pulled the lower half of his body away from mine, but I reached out and pulled him back by the hips. I hadn't expected the loud groan to come from him. I dug my fingers into his shoulders and sucked in a deep breath, breaking away from the kiss for all of a second before Peeta pulled me back into it. The kiss was growing quickly out of control as was the rapid beating of my heart. I knew I should have ended it. Things were moving way too fast, at least I thought they were, and Peeta must have sensed this too because he placed his hands on my hips and pushed himself away from me a mere second before releasing me from the kiss. Right before he pulled away from me I felt that sharp twinge in the lower part of my stomach and my entire body shuddered as some sort of animal like moan escaped from my throat.

Peeta pulled his hips away from me a few more inches, and got out a very non apologetic sounding, "Sorry," he pressed a kiss against my forehead before rolling to his back and draping an arm over the lower part of his body. "I didn't mean for us to get so carried away."

"It's okay," I was surprised at myself. Not because of what we had just done, but because I _wanted_ him to get carried away.

He questioned me with his eyes, "Is it okay that I kissed you...like _that_?"

I had to think for all of maybe a second. I trailed my finger down the side of his flushed cheek and whispered to him, "Yes." It was more than okay. It was a revelation. It was earth shattering. It was... "If you wanted to do that again, I wouldn't argue," …worth repeating.

The sound of Peeta's laughter bubbled up beneath my ear as I rested my head against his chest. I wasn't sure if something I said or did was funny, and I was quickly becoming overwhelmed with a feeling of shame. "Do you realize we went to the market today for milk and tea and we forgot both?" Peeta looked down into my eyes and grabbed me in a hug. Suddenly my laughter joined his. It wasn't really all that funny, but it broke up the enormous amount of tension that had built up between us. He gave me a slight tap on my lower back and said, "Let's go put our stuff away and see what Haymitch is up to."

I didn't want to move from that comfortable spot on the sofa, but staying there like that with Peeta after what just happened between us… visiting Haymitch was probably the smartest thing to do. "'kay."

As I went to roll my feet off the sofa, Peeta gave me one more quick kiss and a slight swipe of his tongue between them. "Be careful what you wish for, Katniss." He held my face between his hands and kissed me until I was left breathless. "You just might get it."

He didn't kiss me like that for the rest of the day, and that night when we went to bed I was grateful all he gave me was a peck on the forehead. Peeta was right, I needed to be careful. This was not an area I was ready to jump into so readily.

We spent the next few days at my house and then we went to Peeta's. As far as kisses went, they weren't really sought out by either one of us, and love? Well… I put that thought to rest as quickly as possible. Just trying to make it through the waking day was hard enough. Confusing what Peeta and I were just starting to get back with talk of love would just muck everything up, and neither one of us wanted or needed that. As far as kisses went, after Peeta's comment about being careful, let's just say we both took his advice to heart. All though… at night…when the nightmares come…like last night when I woke up screaming and crying because Finnick was reaching out to me and mutts were tearing his legs to shreds, and all I could see were his green eyes glowing behind my closed lids, begging me to save his life, Peeta's arms were there to comfort me and so were his lips.

**Feel free to follow me on tumblr I'm jamiesommers23**


	7. Gale

**The Road to Recovery**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Chapter Seven: Gale**

**Sorry for the wait, but I got a bit sidetracked with a Joshifer fic of all things. Normally I don't write those, but I felt the urge so I went with it. If you want to read it you can go to my tumblr page and find it. It's called Intimate Strangers. I also started a new tumblr page for the Joshifer shippers out there called joshiferrecs. It's a page dedicated to joshifer fan fics. Feel free to take a gander if you like. **

**Thank you to SF (new beta) for doing such a good job, and MS, thank you for offering your services. A, I miss you! Just wanted to tell him that. **

**Okay...go read...**

**The Road to Recovery**

Happiness is not something I normally associate with myself. Joy occurs in my life about as often as a lump of coal is crushed into a pearl. Yet these past few days have been full of both joy and happiness. Where I once loathed the thought of bedtime, now I welcomed it. Peeta was always with me now. Or I with him. Our friendship had solidified into something I had never experienced before. Not even with Gale. Yes, I had been close to Gale. I had shared things with him I had never shared with anyone else, but this thing I had with Peeta made that feel inadequate. At first I thought it was just the connection we shared because of all we went through in the arena as well as afterward during the war, but then I realized I would have always gotten along with Peeta. We seemed to...click for some strange reason and I honestly didn't know why. When I really thought about it, we were polar opposites. Where I would fly off the handle at the smallest little thing, he would laugh it off. When I was convinced that Haymitch was nothing but a waste of air, because all he ever did was get drunk and vomit, Peeta would remind me how smart our mentor was by engaging him in some sort of discussion, usually of a political nature. Haymitch wasn't convinced the new government was going to work and Peeta was sure it would be a success. Their arguments were never like mine and Haymitch's. Theirs were always well thought out discussions. They were fair, each one giving the other a chance to speak his mind and share their point of view. On the other hand, Peeta has had to hold me back by the shoulders on more than one occasion in which Haymitch and I had a disagreement. Once about lemonade and what was better, tart or sweet? Yes, Peeta and I were as different as black from white. And when he got a flashback it was like our roles instantly reversed. I was no longer hard and struggling for things to say. Somehow I'd slip into this...persona I had never knew existed inside of me, and bring Peeta back to reality. His flashbacks were slowly easing up and more often than not he was back to that sweet boy that had been willing to sacrifice his life in the arena for me. He brought laughter back into my life when I thought it was gone for good. His arms brought a sense of comfort at night to ward off the evil memories that haunted me and the tender kisses he'd give me, to help ease the pain, would usually make me long for more. Other than that one time on the sofa, he hadn't taken our kisses too far. In a way I was grateful, but in the back of my mind I was hoping he'd lose himself again which would give me an excuse to allow it.

One day we took a walk through town and Peeta sketched the meadow. It was in full bloom now, so it was lovely. A cemetery for those that didn't survive the fire bombs. I was touched at how much work was put into it. It was a special place for Peeta. To me it was a reminder of Prim and it tugged at my heart. I could see her walking Lady there, letting the goat feed off of the sprigs and greenery. I could see her smiling and smelling the flowers as they bloomed. It was a difficult place for me to be, but Peeta had insisted that we face it.

"Katniss, we can't live here and not see the meadow. We can't stay in Victor's Village forever. There's a whole district out there…a whole world. We have the freedom to go where we want…see what we want."

"No, Peeta," I corrected him. "You have that freedom. I have to stay in Twelve." It didn't bother me. I was home.

"One day you'll be able to go anywhere you want, Katniss, but if you can't face the rest of our district, how will you face the rest of this country?" He rested his hand on my shoulder and said, "If you never leave the safety of the village you'll always be his prisoner." Peeta knew how to get me to face my fears without being harsh and I was grateful. So when we went to the meadow and I saw how much it had changed from the last time I had seen it filled with corpses, soot and ash, I was taken aback. I stood at the edge of it, holding my breath, as Peeta set down a blanket for us and placed his artist's tools on the ground. "Come here," he held his hand out to me. "I'm going to tell you a story."

I was hesitant at first, ghosts of my sister seemed to linger everywhere, but Peeta's eyes were so warm and inviting. I reached my hand to his and slid it against his palm. "What kind of story?"

"About a mint leaf and a basil leaf," he pressed a kiss against my temple, picked up his sketchpad and began grabbing at different colored coals. "My mother wanted to make herb bread, but we didn't have any basil. Doesn't sound like a problem, but there are certain herbs you need to use when baking that sort of bread and if you don't get it right the flavor is off. It's not like you can see it if the bread tastes bad, so I had this great idea. I thought I'd come out here and pick some basil." As Peeta spoke his fingers were working furiously, turning a blank sheet of paper into a miniature meadow right before my eyes. "There was just one problem. I had no clue what basil looked like out here." The corner of his mouth lifted up into a crooked grin. "I knew what basil looked like, but when it's in the middle of the meadow, surrounded by a bunch of other herbs…well, it was pretty hard to tell what was what. I finally decided I had figured out which was a sprig of basil and began picking them before the Peacekeepers caught me at it, but even if they had, I was pretty sure my father could bribe them with a promise of a loaf of bread and then I heard this tiny voice behind me asking, 'Whatcha doing?'" Peeta glanced in my direction for a brief second. "Needless to say I was frozen in place until I realized the little girl was Prim." I don't remember Prim ever mentioning that she had run into Peeta before, so I was curious as to how this story played out. "So I said to her. I'm collecting basil for some herb bread, but don't tell or I'll probably get thrown in jail or something." And Prim gives me this funny look…her face got all squished up and she says, 'Then why do you have a handful of mint?'" Now I'm staring at this massive amount of herbs, I had just spent the past thirty minutes searching for, in complete disbelief. "Are you sure these aren't basil leaves?" I asked her and she shakes her head real slow and says, 'That's mint.' She held out a hand and I gave her one then she did the damnedest thing. She rubbed the leaf between two fingers and sniffed at it then held it up for me to sniff. 'See?' She says. 'Take a whiff.' Now my curiosity is peaked so I have to smell it and sure enough if it doesn't smell like that stuff my dad brews into tea." Peeta smiled at me, but I was completely caught up in his story, and wanted him to go on. "I didn't want her to think I was a complete idiot, who knows if she'd go home and tell her sister, the girl I had been in love with since the first day of school, that the baker's son was a total moron. Instead I said, "Well, I haven't started getting the basil yet. This is for tea." So she smiles at me and says, 'Oh. Well, if you want, I'll help you pick the basil. The Peacekeepers are making their rounds and will be walking by here in about fifteen minutes so we'll have to hurry.' "Now, I'm no idiot. Of course I'm not going to let her help me. If she got caught she'd be in a world of trouble. So I tell her I can do it and I start searching around the edge of the meadow for more herbs." He dropped a dark green coal and switched it for a bright yellow one. "Then I hear this light little tinkle of laughter and she says, 'You don't know which one is basil do you?'" He paused for a second and rested back on his hands. "How on earth was I supposed to answer that? If I told her the truth I'd look like an imbecile and if I kept on searching and returned with the wrong herb my mother would have a fit so I finally admitted defeat and she walked straight to it, pulled off a leaf and rubbed her fingers against it again. 'If you do that it releases the oils and you can smell it,' she held it out to me again and I took a whiff. Boy did it smell good," Peeta said it like it was a fond memory and I loved the expression on his face. "So I'm hurrying up and gathering as much as I can when I realize I don't need the mint, but maybe she did, so I gave it to her and she shoved it in her jacket pocket. Before I left she handed me this other bunch of herbs and said, 'This is flat parsley. It goes really well with basil. I don't know what you're making, but if you don't try using this in conjunction with the basil then the taste isn't right.'" Peeta and I both let out a little laugh. "Then she said, 'you should try marjoram too,' and bends down and picks a handful of the stuff. By the time I got home my pockets were stuffed with all of these herbs and I spread them out on the counter for my dad to see. Of course he lectured me for going to the meadow and picking the herbs, my mom didn't look all that concerned." He shrugged it off. "The next morning when my dad and I made the bread…" Peeta lifted his eyes and stared somewhere into the distance, "…it was the best herb bread we had ever made. My dad and I each had a slice, you've got to taste it when you bake a new recipe, but other than that, we didn't eat it. "Well," he grinned down at me, "at least we wouldn't get to until it got stale." Peeta laughed a little and I'm not sure why I joined in on his laughter, but I did. Simply put, it was infectious. "My dad," he continued, "shoved a loaf of it to the back of the pantry. 'Shh,'" Peeta held up his finger over his lips, mimicking his father's actions I'm sure. "'Don't tell. We'll eat it tomorrow with dinner.'" Now his smile lit up his entire face and threatened to outshine the sun. "When my dad pulled it out and served it with dinner, my mother gave him a strange look and said, 'I thought we sold out of that.' 'Nope,' he said. 'Still had one loaf left, but it's too old to sell.'" Peeta licked his lips. "That was one of the best dinners of my life. My dad said the bread was stale, and it was, but put it in the oven for a few minutes and let the outside get crispy and the inside soften up…mmm."

"Well, now I want some herb bread," I said flatly.

"Then I guess you're going to have to pick us some herbs while I finish my sketch."

"I can do that," I gave him a soft grin and thought of Prim showing him how to identify the herbs. It was a sweet story and one I had never heard before. As I strolled along the edges of the meadow and pulled up the various items Peeta said he needed, I pictured Prim rubbing the leaves and sniffing at them. She did that often at home. Not because she needed to identify which was which, but because she loved the scents. "Here," I spread out my offering across the blanket and found Peeta staring at the picture he had sketched.

"It's nice remembering," his legs were sticking out in front of him and his feet tapping together. "I keep thinking, it's weird how much I can feel my dad here, but I do." He turned his head to me. "I feel them all here. My brothers. My mother. Like they're resting in the heavens above, shining down on us and keeping us all safe." He lifted his sketch to me and said, "Now I can bring them home with me. I can bring home all the color and wonder of their lives and let it watch over me there too." His family was buried in there, but to him the meadow was a thing of beauty, not a cemetery. I was amazed at how he could see past the pain and find such splendor. And as I looked at his features, the softness of his tender smile, the marvel in his eyes, I felt that pang of love that I had been avoiding. It strummed against my heartstrings, playing a melody I was not ready to sing. The worst part was that he hadn't even touched me and I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. I could hear him warning me to be careful about what I wished for, but I didn't wish for this. Yet here it was, causing the miniscule hairs on my arms to stand on end and my pulse to grow wild. I didn't love Peeta because of what he made me feel when he touched me, I loved him because he touched me when I no longer thought I could feel. That night while we were making dinner I couldn't stop laughing at Peeta's attempts to make something called ravioli. He read about it in a cookbook my mother sent him. She knew better then to send it to me. "Okay," he stood next to the counter, wearing his apron which had a light dusting of flour on it. "Now I'm supposed to flatten it out with a pasta maker." Peeta's whole face morphed into one of shock. "What the hell is a pasta maker!?"

"I have no clue," I chuckled.

"You think this dang recipe would have said I needed something like…hmm…" he began flipping the page to the beginning of the recipe. "Well, what do you know about that?" He threw his hands up in the air. "Recommended tools, a pasta maker." He turned to face me. "That's what happens when you don't read the directions carefully." He shook his head from side to side. "So now what?" He had this look on his face like a dejected five year old boy. "I wanted ravioli."

"Peeta, you've never had ravioli," I told him. "How do you know if you wanted it?"

"That's why I wanted it, Katniss," he said to me with a whine in his tone, and I couldn't help the bubble of laughter that exploded from within me. "You're laughing at me? Well, we'll see who's laughing when it's time to eat dinner tonight." He started flipping through the pages again and let out a satisfied, "Hah!" Within a second he had gotten the rolling pin and spun it around in the palm of his hand like it was a toy top then gripped it by the handle, stopping the spinning instantly. "I've got it now. You think you had me ravioli, well, I've got news for you…" he began letting out this little grunting noise as he pressed the pin into the dough and flattened it out. "Damn skippy," he said with pride when it was in the shape of a perfect rectangle. Peeta's battle with the pasta had been won. When all was said and done, it was delicious. He was covered in flour and my kitchen was a complete wreck, but it was worth it.

I filled the sink up with some soapy water and started to wash the dishes. Peeta's arms encircled my waist from behind and he started to kiss my right ear very softly. My heart stopped.

"What's that for?" I asked him, trying my best to hide the tremor in my voice.

"I'm buttering you up."

Giggling is something I rarely did, but I giggled at his statement. "Why are you buttering me up?"

"So you won't be mad at me."

"Why would I be mad at you?" The whispering in my ear was causing my stomach to flutter. And washing the dishes had come to a complete halt.

"Because I want to paint and leave you with a messy kitchen." He switched ears. "Is that okay?"

My head started to lean to the side so he'd have better access to my ear. "Paint? Uh…"

"Yes. Paint."

I didn't care what he did as long as he didn't stop kissing me. _Wait a minute_… I turned around and looked at him. Our faces were inches apart. "You want me to clean up your ravioli mess?" There were countless pots, bowls…flour everywhere.

He placed his lips against mine and whispered, "Yes." Then kissed me. It was a soft kiss of exploration and my insides started to churn as his tongue snaked between my lips and started twirling with my own.

I sighed and placed my hands on the kitchen counter. One, because they were wet and two, because I was afraid that my knees would buckle. "Okay."

He pulled away from me and his whole face lit up with a smile. "Really? I didn't think you'd say yes."

"Well, I did. So leave now before I change my mind." _And so I can pull myself together_.

"Thanks." He placed a quick peck on my cheek and headed for the door.

I turned around and went back to washing dishes. Then his arms came around me again.

"Come over tonight." It was a statement. Not a question.

"You'll be painting."

"I don't care. Come over anyway." His lips were against my neck.

My eyes closed and I took it all in. His arms around my waist. His lips pressing up against my neck. His breath hot against my skin. "Alright." At this point he could talk me into just about anything. One last kiss on my chin and he was gone. The moment he shut the door I sat down on a kitchen chair. _I love him. At least I think I do. How do you know when you love someone? _I began having a conversation, in my head, with myself_. Is this what girls in school talked about? I don't know. I never talked about boys when I was in school. So how do I know if I'm in love? _I wanted to scream. Fortunately the ringing phone interrupted me. I just looked at it thinking, _is it Peeta? He just left. Does he want to talk to me again? _Finally a voice in my head screamed, _answer it!_

"Katniss?"

"Mom." _Not Peeta_. It was good to hear my mother's voice, but my mind was racing right now. I wasn't sure that I'd be the best conversationalist.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine," _I guess_.

"When we spoke the other night about Annie, I didn't even think about what day it was or how you were holding up. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." _This is not a conversation I want to have right now_. "I'm fine mom. Seriously, I'm fine." Maybe if I said it enough times I would be.

The line was silent for a few seconds and then she said, "Katniss, you don't sound fine. You sound like something's wrong."

"No. Not wrong exactly." _Do I talk to my mother about this? She's my mom. She should know about these things._

"Then what is it…exactly?"

I took a deep breath and asked her, "How do you know when you're in love?" The moment the words left my mouth I regretted saying them. I sounded foolish.

"Oh…well…"

_Why did I ask her?_

"I'm guessing it's Peeta we're talking about," there was an annoying assumption in her statement.

"It's just a question, mom." Clearly it was easier to take out my frustrations on my mother than myself.

"Okay. Then I'll give you an answer." She paused and said, "You just know."

_Thanks a lot_! Sometimes I had to wonder about my mother.

"It's different for everyone, Katniss. Some people just know and others…well they figure it out eventually."

"Am I a figure it out eventually person?"

"I can't tell you that. The only person that knows what you're feeling in your heart is you."

"But that's just it. I don't know. I mean I think I know…I'm not sure though…" Why I was still talking about this, let alone with my mother, I'd never know.

"All I can tell you is how I felt with your father."

_That's good. Tell me that. _She was so in love with my father she practically let Prim and I starve to death after he died. I'm not sure why I thought this was a good thing, but for this particular scenario, it was the best I had. "So tell me about you and dad."

"Your father," she cleared her voice and started again. "Your father was the love of my life, Katniss. He made me laugh at one of the worst points of my life."

"When was that?"

"After Maysilee died."

_Oh. I never knew that_.

"All of our friends would sit around and talk about her, but I couldn't. Neither could her sister. I started to become quite sullen and then one day your father talked to me."

"What did he say?"

"He said he was sorry that I lost my friend. The next day he walked me home. And the next and the next…" Her voice sounded airy. "Then one day I spotted some mockingjays in the schoolyard and I told him about Maysilee's pin. He brought me closer to them and started to sing to them. And…"

"They all fell silent." I remembered Peeta's words.

"Yes."

"So that's when you knew you loved him?"

"Yes, but it wasn't just that, Katniss. Your father he made me a better person. He made me…he made me happy. I couldn't imagine my life without him."

This was why my mother was so lost when my father died. She loved him more than I could understand back then, but now I got it. In fact, I understood a little too well how she let herself get so bad and I could no longer blame her for it.

"The question is, Katniss…do you feel that way about Peeta?"

"I didn't say it was Peeta." I mumbled.

"You didn't have to."

_Am I really an open book? This is exactly why everyone kept things from me during the Games_.

"The only advice I can give you is take your time. You're still young. You don't need to rush into anything. Just enjoy it for a while. Don't over analyze your feelings. Just let them…happen. You'll figure it out eventually"

_I guess I am one of those people_.

Maybe my mom was the right choice to talk to after all. We said our goodbyes and I finished cleaning the kitchen. My mind continued to race, questioning things. _Was I happy? Yes. I was_. Peeta made me very happy. Still, that didn't mean that I was in love. Yes, I love him. Of course I do. Who wouldn't love Peeta? But being _in _love is a completely different story. _Maybe I should stay home tonight? _I'm telling myself this as I begin to pack a bag with my toothbrush, pajamas and a change of clothing. _I should probably just stay away from him until I know exactly how I feel_. This is going through my head as I'm knocking on his door. When he opens it up and smiles at me I automatically smile back. _Yes. He makes me very happy._

"What's in the bag?" He took it out of my hands and started carrying it into the house.

"Clothes…toothbrush… just stuff." I'm going to do what my mother suggested. I'm going to just try and enjoy my time with him. Not over think things. I'm feeling like myself again.

"Planning on staying the night?" He grinned at me as he walked upstairs.

"I thought about it." I said jokingly. "But I don't have to. I can go home if you like?"

"Don't you dare!" He throws my bag on a chair and said, "Why did you bring pajamas? I kind of liked the way you looked in my shirt."

My face must've turned seven shades of red because I could feel the heat radiating from my cheeks. "I…uh…umm…." The nerves were back.

He laughed a little and told me he was going to finish cleaning his paint brushes.

I was so nervous. No. Terrified was more like it. How do you stop thinking about love? _I should've stayed home_. "Peeta? Do you want some tea?"

"Sure," he called out to me. "But I don't have any. I keep forgetting to pick it up."

"What about milk?" I needed something to calm my stomach. "Do you have any of that?"

"Yeah, but I'll get it for you, Katniss."

"No. I can do it." I had to do something to keep myself occupied. "Or I can run home and grab some tea."

"If you want tea than that's fine."

This was a good excuse to go back to my house for the night.

"I'd rather you stayed though." He walked up to me and kissed the tip of my nose as he passed me. _There goes that plan_.

Peeta made me some warm milk and then we talked for a little while. His sessions with Dr. Aurelius would be coming to an end in just over a month or so. Even though he's got lasting effects from the Capitol's hijacking. It's just something we'll have to deal with for the rest of our lives. I kept asking him questions. Questions about stupid inconsequential things just to avoid going to bed. Finally when we're so tired, I think, _all we'll do is fall asleep when we go to bed. No kissing_. I'm relieved.

"Where's my bag?" I asked him.

"It's in my room. You can go up. I'm going to shut the lights off and lock the door."

I walked into his room and lying on top of my bag is the shirt I wore the night it rained. His shirt. I picked it up and took it into the bathroom with me. _Was he joking? Did he want me to wear this? I feel so…so…naked when I wear this. It's just a shirt Katniss. Yes. His shirt! _I took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. I had no clue who this girl was I was staring at. She wasn't confident. She wasn't strong. She certainly wasn't a survivor. I heard my mother's words in my head. _"Just enjoy it._" A few deep breaths, some cold water splashed on my face and I was back to normal. For real this time. All of those questions I'd been asking myself today were pointless, silly really. The fact was that I wanted to be here with Peeta. There was no place else I'd rather be. So I buttoned up his shirt. Put my hair in two braids instead of one and went to bed.

The look on his face when I walked into the room was one I'll never forget. He started to say something to me, but all that came out was a "Bwah," sound.

"I'm done in the bathroom if you need it." Confident Katniss was back. _I really missed her tonight_.

"Thanks," his eyes were following me as I walked around the bed.

When he came to bed I rolled over and curled up into him. "Goodnight, Peeta." I leaned up and kissed his chin. _Yes. I like this much, much better_.

"Katniss?"

"Yes."

"I like your hair."

I smiled before closing my eyes and falling asleep. When I opened them up it wasn't because of a nightmare, but because I could feel the coolness of the mattress next to me as I slept. "Peeta?" I said quietly then noticed the light in the hallway. I followed the thin stream until it led me to Peeta's little studio. "Hey," I said from the doorway, not wanting to step into it and see the nightmares that were painted onto the canvases.

"Katniss," he dropped his paintbrush into a glass jar and wiped his hands off on a rag. "You okay?"

"I woke up and you weren't there." I hated sounding so desperate and needy, but I was. At least when it came to Peeta I was. "Are you okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he pressed his lips against my forehead and I rested my palms against his chest. "I'll clean up…" he began to pull away, but I held him in place. I wasn't quite ready to let him go even if it was only for a few minutes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I answered. And there was nothing wrong with me. Actually, there was, but it wasn't something I was prepared to discuss. "Guess I just don't like waking up alone."

"If you let me clean my paintbrushes I'll come back to bed with you, okay?" He offered, but it was obvious he had wanted to paint for some reason.

"Did you have a nightmare?" I asked him as he went through the procedure of cleaning his brushes.

"Yeah," he answered.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because you looked so peaceful," he dipped a brush into something clear and I could see the color seeping from the brush causing a streak of green to flow through the fluid. He followed it up with another brush and I could see the color red. Soon the colors had turned the clear liquid to black and I couldn't seem to keep my eyes off of it. I waited until he was done and heading in my direction before lifting my eyes to him. "I've got to wash my hands; I've got some paint on them." He brushed past me and headed for the bathroom. I climbed into bed and waited under the covers for him to show up, all the while keeping my eyes glued to the bathroom door in the master bedroom suite. "I need to change," he said as he walked out without a shirt. "Got paint on that too."

I stared at his torso for a second and noticed the burn mark that streaked from his stomach, around his ribs and towards his back. I had a desire to run my fingers across it. To ask him if it still bothered him. Before I knew it I asked, "Do you ever think about that day?"

"What day?" He asked as he pulled a white t-shirt from his dresser.

"The day you got that," I pointed at the scar.

He looked down at his stomach, ran his hand across the burn mark and then ran his finger over another I hadn't noticed. "I try not to think about how I got these. If I do then I wind up…" he started to hem and haw. "Uh...um..."

"Wind up what?"

"It makes me...angry," his eyes met mine and I knew why he avoided thinking about it. He was afraid he'd have a flashback and take the memories of that day out on me. "Do you think about it?"

"All the time," I got to my knees and made my way to the edge of the bed. "My nightmares are filled with visions of that day."

He reached a hand out to me and brushed his knuckles against my cheek. "One day you'll have dreams so beautiful you'll be bursting to tell me about them." His soft voice matched the glow of the stars shimmering through the sheer panels of the open window. "Can you imagine a day like that, Katniss?" I couldn't, but the picture he began to draw for me with his words made me think that one day it would be possible. "Imagine going to sleep at night and when you closed your eyes you'd fall into a peaceful slumber, filled with visions of bluebirds and robins flitting about on a spring morning from branch to branch, as new buds began to blossom. Can you see it?" I closed my eyes and tried to picture it behind closed lids. "Feel the warmth of the sun on your skin, Katniss." He must've leaned closer to me because the only warmth I could feel was his breath against my cheek as he spoke. "Can you hear the birds singing? They're putting to melody the promise of a new day." He paused. "In your dreams you can fly with them. Spread your wings and take to the sky. You can be free to sing...to feel the wind blowing...to soar. One day," I opened my eyes and saw Peeta's gentle features only a few inches away from me, "you'll be able to dream of so much beauty...of...joy...happiness...love. You'll be able to smile...laugh without feeling guilt and darkness won't be your enemy anymore, Katniss. You won't be afraid of what bedtime brings." His thumb brushed across my bottom lip just as his head dipped towards mine. As our lips met, his hand gliding across the side of my cheek and curling around the back of my head. The shirt he held in his hand fell to the floor as he lifted first one knee onto the bed, and then the other. I slid my hands up his bare back and returned his tender kiss, finding myself completely lost in the fullness of his lips and how masterfully he used them. Our heads began to tilt as one kiss turned into another and another after that. They were nothing like the kiss on the sofa...the kind I craved and feared all at once. This time when Peeta kissed me he took his time bathing the interior of my mouth with the lavish strokes of his tongue. I thought about what he had said earlier in the day, in regards to tasting a new recipe, and realized that he was doing that very thing. He was tasting me. Savoring the flavor of...me. He pulled away from me, but our eyes stayed locked together, and he lay down on the bed, gently tugging on my hand for me to follow his lead. The nerves I had felt earlier in the evening were nothing compared to what I was feeling in that second. I had no clue if Peeta was going to continue kissing me again, or if we were going to go back to sleep. Though my head was saying, _go back to sleep_, my insides were crying out for his lips to press against mine once again. I had to take a breath as we lay facing each other, not because Peeta did what I wanted...because he kissed me again, but because he didn't. Instead he took on that intense look that makes his bright blue eyes turn into a stormy sky and began caressing my face with his gaze. Eventually his fingers traced my brows, the hollow of my throat, a spot behind my ear and ran down my braids. My hands got their fill of his hair, his back and his jaw. I had never really given much thought to these parts of his body before, but now I couldn't stop thinking about them. The way he got this tight little knot in the hinge of his jaw when his ire got worked up...he grit his teeth, or he was concentrating on something. In this instance I could feel that tiny little knot tensing up beneath the pads of my fingertips as our lips met and the kiss quickly went from slow and tender to wildly passionate. The way his shoulder blades flexed beneath the palm of my hand as he pulled me closer to him, holding my body against his, and the way he tasted. It was a mixture of sleep, warm milk and... _Peeta_. I sighed just as his mouth brushed up against mine. I thought of the first time we had kissed each other, and the fever that had caused his lips to burn with uncontrollable heat. The heat that radiated from his mouth now had nothing to do with any form of illness or injury and everything to do with me. The mere thought of this caused my stomach to flutter and my fingers to dig into his arms. As he pulled away from me a terrible sensation of emptiness began to stir inside of me that I wasn't too crazy about.

"I'm starting to think you actually like me, Katniss," he grinned and placed a soft peck against my still parted mouth.

"I'm still not convinced you like me," I wasn't sure where this playful person came from, but Peeta seemed to bring her out in me.

"Eh...you're all right," he said with a straight face then lay back and let out a bit of laughter.

"Shut up," I nudged him a little with my elbow and rested my cheek against his bare chest where his heart beat strong. "Go to sleep." I said it, but I didn't mean it. I had no desire to go to sleep. No, all of my desires were now centered on the man holding me in his arms, and the irrational beating of my heart.

"Oh, I plan on it now that you've given me something to dream about," he let out a small chuckle again and I could feel myself blushing against his naked chest.

"Peeta," my voice was quiet, yet it seemed to boom through the still bedroom, "Will you..." I wanted to ask him to kiss me again, but I couldn't seem to find the courage to do so. "Umm..." I had to think of something to say, and I was at a complete loss.

"Did you want something, Katniss?"

The first thing that popped into my mind was, _yes. You_. "No. Never mind." I closed my eyes and tried to put the intense feelings that filled the pit of my stomach, out of mind.

"I want something," his voice echoed through his chest and into my ear.

"What?" I asked nervously.

"I want you to kiss you again." His words had my insides jumping up and down. "I know you probably don't want me to-"

"No," my head shot up. "No," I ducked my eyes downward, unable to hold the gaze that was fixated on me. "I like it when you kiss me." There. I had admitted it out loud, and I wasn't quite sure if I regretted it or if I was happy I had made the choice to share...well, sort of share, my feelings with him until he rolled me onto my back and brushed his lips against mine. I sighed into his mouth and let my hands rest at his waist.

"Katniss," the way he said my name made me think of the clouds we had watched floating in the sky while sitting in the meadow.

"Yes," I answered him between soft pecks.

"Nothing," he smiled into my mouth and ran his hand over the side of my face then let it travel down my shoulder and back up again. "I just like saying your name. Katniss," he said like a warm breeze on a spring day. My heart raced when his eyes drifted closed and his lips found mine. Never, in my entire life, had anyone said my name simply because they wanted to hear it. It was little things like this that had me questioning whether or not Peeta and I were right for each other and why I was so confused about loving him. We were so different. Even though he had gone through Snow's torture and was left with devastating effects, I was still the one with the short fuse. The one that lost her temper at the drop of a hat. I was the one that expected the worst in every scenario and Peeta was the one that never lost sight of what could be. He never lost hope. My mind continued to race as his tongue dipped inside of my mouth and whatever apprehensions I was building up in my mind about us, quickly disappeared into thin air. In short, Peeta kissed me senseless.

I spent two nights at Peeta's while he worked on his painting. The next few nights were spent at my house. Each night he'd leave out a clean shirt of his to wear, but no matter how many times he washed them, his scent still lingered on the fabric. Each morning he'd wake up early to bake bread and he'd kiss me. A light peck on the lips just to say he was headed downstairs to start baking. On hunting days, I'd wake up with him and head out early.

"Katniss," he called to me as he stood at my counter with his hands in a bowl of something. "Hurry up. Come here."

I quickly rushed to his aid. "What's wron..." His lips silenced mine.

"Okay," he grinned and went back to kneading dough. "Disaster averted."

It was hard for me not to smile, but I kept it to myself. I headed for the front door; my bow was slung over my shoulder as I turned to face him. "Hey," I called to him and when his eyes met mine it was what I imagined being struck by a bolt of lightning would feel like. I was so grateful he was here with me. So thankful he was back in my life and that we were working through our grief together. I'm not sure how long I stood there staring at him, but it must have been a while because he was the one that had to say something to remind me I was the one that had called out to him.

"Katniss, were you going to ask me something?"

"Oh...um..." If he had said it, if he had said, I love you right then, I'm pretty sure I would have said it back. "Need me to bring anything back?"

"Just yourself. Now go so you can hurry up and come home. I miss you already."

As I made my way to the woods I found that I missed him too. I didn't like being without him. I'm not sure how we had accomplished it, but somehow we had turned things around for the better. And as I thought of the way things were progressing between us, I came to a realization. One that probably would have made me ashamed a month or two earlier, but not so much anymore. Life was...good.

Time passed by. Hours turning to days and days to weeks. We began forming a routine of sorts. Spending nights at each other's houses. Spending certain hours of the day at Haymitch's or he'd stop by our place and though I said Peeta and I weren't living together, we had yet to spend barely a waking, or sleeping moment apart.

The first thing I thought of, when I opened my eyes was, _no nightmares_. The second thing was, _I hate it when I wake up alone_. _He was here with me last night so where is he this morning? He knows I don't like it when he just leaves without saying goodbye_. I could feel the scowl forming on my face as I gripped the covers in my fist. That's when I heard him. No, them. Peeta and Haymitch were shouting at one another. Not full out yelling, but more of a subdued, trying to keep it quiet fight. _Flashback! No! _I jumped out of bed and ran to Peeta's aid. He hadn't had one for two weeks. And the first time he has one, I'm upstairs getting angry with him for leaving me without saying goodbye. As I ran down the stairs I called out his name. "Peeta!"

He turned around and looked at me with concern on his face. "What's wrong? Are you okay, Katniss?"

I ran up to him and just looked into his eyes. Searching for the darkness he battled, and finding none. "What's…" I looked at Haymitch. "What's going on?" Clearly Peeta was fine. If anything, he was more worried about how I was doing. "Why are you up?" I had an accusing tone towards Haymitch. "It's still morning." My eyes darted between the pair. Something was definitely going on.

"Be nice, Katniss," Peeta scolded me. What could I say? I never was a morning person.

"Well it's true." I watched as Haymitch and Peeta kept exchanging glances back and forth until finally I couldn't take it anymore. "Okay. Is somebody going to tell me what happened?" I started thinking the worst. _Something is wrong with my mother. The Games are back on. Annie's baby died_. It's amazing how many repulsive thoughts can go through a person's mind in the span of a few seconds.

"Sit down, sweetheart." Haymitch's voice was too nice. Too…sweet. Haymitch isn't sweet. Not to me anyway.

"I don't want to sit down." I glared at Peeta and said, "Tell me right now. What happened? Is my mother alright?"

Haymitch spoke up. "She's fine. It's just…I've got to take a trip to the Capitol for a little while."

_That's it? Haymitch is going to the Capitol and they're acting like my best friend died. _"So what?" I breathed a huge sigh of relief, rolled my eyes and walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. "Have a great time. Eat some lamb stew for me." I began to chuckle at that. Haymitch would probably spend the entire time drunk then puking up the delicacies of the Capitol.

"Katniss, you don't understand. Haymitch is leaving." Peeta tried to explain this to me like I was an idiot.

"That's what I thought. My first clue was when he said he was taking a trip." _Are they under some misconception that I can't survive without Haymitch around? I'm sure I'd get over it eventually. Sure District Twelve wouldn't be the same without him. He's the only mentor left but… Oh no. He's my mentor_. The glass I was lifting to my lips stopped dead in its tracks. "You're leaving?" _This can't be. If he leaves then what happens to me? _"What does that mean?" I kept swallowing the lump that was forming in my throat. "What's going to happen to me? Do I have to go too? I don't want to go." I began to protest.

They both began saying no at the same time.

"So I can stay here?" There was hope yet.

"Yes, but…" Haymitch looked at Peeta.

"Katniss, the court won't let you stay here unsupervised so they're sending someone in Haymitch's place."

"Okay." There was a tremor in my voice. I was still nervous. _Effie? Johanna? President Paylor herself? Please not Plutarch._

Peeta walked over to me and took the glass from my hand and said, "It's Gale, Katniss."

_No. Gale worked in District Two. He's not coming back here_.

Peeta continued, "His mother and brothers are moving into one of the houses in Victor's Village and since he's going to be here-"

It took a moment for this information to register. "I don't want to see him. I don't think I can." I hadn't yet worked out what I thought about Gale other than his overzealous hatred of the Capitol caused him to create a bomb. A bomb that was used to kill my sister. Whether he knew Coin was planning on using it or not, I could never be certain. Either way, he was the root of the problem, and the mere mention of his coming back to Twelve ripped open the wounds I had spent months trying to heal. "No. You can just stay. You don't have to go, Haymitch."

"I'm afraid I do, sweetheart. The court wants to revisit the terms of your release."

"You mean they want me to go to jail or something?" This was worse. I couldn't go to jail. What would happen to Peeta? I was sure I was going to puke right then and there. I don't know where the leader of the rebellion was, but she wasn't standing in my kitchen.

"No. This is a good thing," Haymitch tried to sound encouraging. Not his strong suit.

"Katniss, this is good news. If things work out then you won't need someone to…" Peeta looked for the right words.

"Babysit me?" I found them. "Why can't Peeta watch me? He already does anyway. I barely even see you." I pointed at Haymitch accusingly.

"Katniss, I'm still under doctor's care. They won't let me."

My voice started to sound shrill. "Well ask!"

"I did," said Haymitch. "I asked them if Effie could come. Johanna… Even your mother, but with Annie just having the baby and all-"

"No. No she can't come." I started to chew on my lip.

"There is one option, Katniss." Peeta said. "And I think it's a good choice." He paused and then added, "They will allow you to go to District Four and stay with your mother until Haymitch gets an answer."

This was good. I could go see my mom. Peeta and I could visit Annie and see the baby. "When can we leave?" I looked to Peeta, awaiting an answer.

"No, Katniss. I can't go with you. You'd have to stay in your mom's house the whole time and they don't want us to be together until they're sure that we won't start any…cause any…"

"I don't understand. Why can't we go together? My mom would let you stay with us." None of this was making any sense to me.

"You don't get it, sweetheart. The Capitol wants to make sure that you're okay in the head and until they decide otherwise, you're on probation." He pointed to the shirt I was wearing. Peeta's shirt and said, "So no conjugal visits outside of District Twelve." If looks could kill, Haymitch would be dead were he stood.

"Then I can't go." I knew this for a fact. If I weren't in District Twelve than who would help Peeta?

"Yes you can. You should go, Katniss. Go see your mom." Peeta tried to encourage me.

"I can't." I switched to biting my cheek instead of my lip once I tasted the saltiness of the blood on the tip of my tongue.

"Why not?" Peeta urged me.

"Because…" I looked into his eyes and said, "I can't leave you." He sighed and began to protest, but I stopped him. "No. Peeta. I won't leave you."

"Told you," Haymitch said to Peeta. "Then you'll have to stay here and Gale will be your guardian until I hear otherwise."

"Gale," I mumbled his name. "I won't really have to see him though." _Why should I? Haymitch is never here. Well he's here, but I ignore him_. My mind was reeling. "If I don't want to…I mean…I won't will I, Peeta?" I looked to him hoping he had the answers.

"I don't know, Katniss."

Haymitch just shrugged his shoulders. "Depends on how strict the rules are that he sets for you."

"Rules?" I was never any good with rules.

The look on Haymitch's face didn't give me much hope either. "Gale will be your guardian while he's here. So what he says goes."

"You mean I have to do _everything _he says?"

"As long as it's not something outrageous and we all agree to it. Then yeah, sweetheart."

"When?" _Do I really want to know when he's showing up, or should I just pretend like he's not coming here? That he was never there at all? No. He'll be helping his family move into Victor's Village_. "Oh my God." The reality hit me like a ton of bricks. "They're going to be our neighbors," I choked out before my throat closed completely off.

Peeta took me in his arms and kissed my head. "We can get through this." I was sniffling. My arms just hung limply to my sides. "We can, Katniss."

_No we can't. I don't know how to get through this. I still don't know how I'll feel when I see Gale again. Or his family. His family. He didn't lose any brothers or sisters. Not like Peeta, Haymitch and I did_. My hatred began to bubble deep within. It quickly subsided when I realized that I was glad his family was alive. I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.

Peeta lifted up my face, "Look at me." I raised my eyes to his. "We can get through anything as long as we're together, right?"

I had told him this not too long ago. Told him those words exactly. I should resent them being thrown back in my face, but I didn't. I believed Peeta. I believed him wholeheartedly. "Together?" I didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but it did.

"Together," he confirmed.

Three days. I had three days before Gale and his family would be taking up residency in our little village. Gale would go back to District Two eventually, but the rest of his family would be here permanently. During those three days the nightmares of Prim's death were a constant battle. I could feel myself trying to scream, but no sound would come out. I was frozen in the middle of the beach arena, standing at the edge of the little island the Cornucopia sat on. There was an overabundance of arrows on my back and I was armed with my bow, but my fingers couldn't move. Nothing could. I could see the tall figure, dressed in the same wetsuit the rest of us tributes had been provided, racing towards Prim. I watched as a hand lifted her head by the chin and with one swift move, sliced open her throat. There was blood dripping from the blade as my voice finally called out, "PRIIIIM!" The tribute standing over her wasn't like the rest of us. He wasn't a victor. He was tall, with dark hair and Seam gray eyes. Bile rose to the top of my throat when the reality of who it was that had killed my sister, dawned on me. "Gale," I gasped. "Why?" I tried to move towards Prim. To run to her aid, but my feet were held captive by the flecks of golden sand. "PRIM!" I screamed out once more, hoping she would open her eyes and press something against the gaping wound that had drained the life from her. "PEEEEEEETAAAAAAAAA!" I yelled out to the only person I knew would be able to help me get to my sister, but the fear that the other tribute...Gale would harm him too, petrified me. "PRIIIIM! PRIIIIIIIIIIM!"

"Katniss," I could hear Peeta's voice talking to me in the arena. "Shhh...shhh."

"Help her! Please, Peeta. Please," I begged him through the sobs that were now wracking my body. "Prim," there was no more blood flowing from the gaping wound in her throat. Her frail body was sickly white and the slice in her neck smiled up at me like a horrifying nightmare.

"Prim's gone, Katniss," Peeta spoke to me as his arms encircled my body. "She's safe now. No one can hurt her anymore."

My eyes began to flutter open, and I saw Peeta staring down at me with a look of sorrow pasted across his face. "Peeta?" I choked out his name and threw myself into his arms. "Ga...Gale..." I was panting out my former friend's name. Trying my best to tell Peeta what I had seen in my sleep.

"Shhh," he stroked the hair away from my sweaty brow. "You don't have to tell me. It was just a bad dream." Peeta sat up and pulled me into his lap, pushed my face into his neck and pressed hard kisses against my temple, but I didn't want to feel this. I had no desire to feel safe or be comforted by anyone if my sister couldn't be. "Katniss," he called out to me when I began to fight his embrace. "Stop it," there was a calm in Peeta's voice that reminded me of Prim when she was presented with a sickly patient. "Don't fight me, Katniss. Just let me hold you. It'll be all right."

"No it won't!" I yelled at him. "She's dead! She's dead!" My entire body began to shake and I could no longer take in a breath. My eyes flew open as I gasped for air. My mother's training screamed out in the back of my mind that I was hyperventilating, but I couldn't seem to remember how to avoid getting to the point of unconsciousness.

"Slow breaths, Katniss," Peeta's voice guided me. "Look at me," one hand turned my face towards his, and the other had a death grip on my waist, as though he were afraid I would take off running. "Slow and steady breaths." He puckered his lips and demonstrated what he wanted me to do. Why I suddenly decided that I needed to listen to Peeta, I had no clue, but I did and soon enough I was able to take a deep breath again. "Oh, Katniss," Peeta let out a sigh of relief, "I wish I could take all the pain away for you."

"You should have let me take that pill," I closed my eyes and let my body sink against his.

"You know as well as I do, that was never a solution." And I did know this, but sometimes the thought of never having to face the pain of losing Prim is so much more welcome than being alive. "Come on. Why don't you lie down?"

I refused Peeta's offer, and shook my head, almost violently, from side to side. If I went back to sleep there was a good possibility that I'd wind up back in the second arena with Prim's throat being slashed, like Wiress' had been.

"Let's go downstairs then, okay?"

I followed Peeta down the steps and into the living room. I thought he'd try and make me lie down on the sofa, so I was preparing myself for a fight, but then he sat down in the rocker and pulled me down into his lap. I could feel his foot pressing against the floor, rocking us back and forth in a slow glide. I don't know why I thought of Peeta's prosthetic. For the life of me, I couldn't remember which leg was his and which had been attached by the Capitol. My hands reached down, and started patting at his knees. "Which one is it?" I asked shakily.

Peeta lifted his leg and said, "Real."

"Okay," there was a sense of relief now that I knew. It was stupid. I know that, but it gave me something to think about other than Prim.

"Rest your head here," he pressed my cheek against his shoulder and I closed my eyes. "When I was a boy, I thought it would be okay to sneak bits of frosting while decorating a cake." This was what I needed. The soothing tone of Peeta's voice to pull me out of the pit of despair. "My brothers used to sneak it, so I thought it would be okay if I did it too. Naturally I had to make sure my mother never caught me or I knew I'd get in big trouble." His hand stroked at my head, holding it against his shoulder, while the other held me on his lap. "The day she caught me, I did get in trouble, but it wasn't because I tasted the frosting. It was because I wasn't using a spoon. As it turned out, I was supposed to taste each batch of frosting I made, as well as the ones I tinted with food coloring, to make sure it didn't affect the flavor." Soon I found myself lost in Peeta's world. I was standing next to him in the bakery as a child. I could see him wearing his flour covered apron and piping different decorations onto layer upon layer of cake. "After doing this over and over again each day, my mother decided that my cakes were the nicest and that I should be the one to do all the decorating, well...you ever have too much sugar, Katniss?" Up until I went into the Games, I had barely had sugar. Not wanting to disturb the tranquility of his voice, I shook my head, no, in response to his question. "Too much sugar doesn't sit well with a person's intestines. I got pretty sick that first day my mother had me tasting the frosting. By the end of the week, my stomach did a flop at the thought of taking one more bite of icing. My dad told me that you get used to it after a while and I did, but till this day, I can still remember how sick I got from all that frosting."

"That's why you don't like sweets," I took a deep breath in, and when I blew it out, I could feel all the muscles in my body relaxing.

"That's why I don't like sweets," Peeta confirmed. "Go to sleep, Katniss." Those were the last words I heard before the sound of my own voice screeching out Prim's name once again. I was up within an hour of falling asleep, screaming as I saw my sister being blown to bits in front of my eyes and Gale in a Peacekeeper's uniform. Any progress I had made on dealing with my sister's death was out the window. I was a basket case again and poor Peeta had to try and pick up the pieces.

Haymitch stopped by the night before he left to say goodbye and to tell me the rules that had been set for me while he was away. If I was to go outside of Victor's Village I needed adult supervision. Peeta was eighteen now so he was allowed to supervise me. If I go into the woods then my guardian, Gale, would have to supervise me. And I was to be in my house between the hours of 8pm and 6am every night unless my guardian approves otherwise. Haymitch assured me that he would call the moment he got word from the court about my probation. Either I would be a completely free woman or I'd be under his constant supervision again. If it was the latter, they'd revisit the decision again in six months.

Apparently Plutarch has been quite vocal, as well as Effie, about revisiting my probationary terms.

_Oh Effie. How I wish it were you babysitting me. I'd mind my manners. I'd use my fork and knife. I'd lay my napkin in my lap and I'd make you proud_. I'd even take my entire prep team plucking me like a chicken over Gale. At this point, I welcomed the thought of Johanna and her oiled up body strolling around Victor's Village in the nude. _Maybe Peeta could paint her after all. _But none of them were coming. It was Gale. Though I had seen him after Prim's death, this visit seemed to be worse. Perhaps because I was healing. Because I wasn't dwelling on her murder every day. I was starting to rebuild my life with Peeta and now all of those thoughts. All of those feelings were the furthest thing from my mind.

The day the train arrived with Gale and his family, I went to Peeta's house. I didn't want to be home. I didn't want to see them moving in and Peeta's house had a worse view of their new abode than mine did. I heard the commotion outside, but I ignored it. Peeta took me to his bedroom, which was at the back of the house and overlooked his garden and we lied in each other's arms. He told me stories of his childhood. Happy stories about his brothers and the pranks they'd pull on each other. About the first time his father discovered that Peeta had an artistic eye. He told me about a time that he watched me in the lunchroom while I was eating with Madge. It took my mind off of things. He even made me smile a couple of times. Something I didn't think would be possible. As the day progressed the knots in my stomach got tighter and tighter. I was going to be sick. I just knew it. When we heard the knock on the door my heart sank.

Peeta stood up and told me, "Stay here. I'll get it." Shortly after, he came upstairs with a tray and some food on it. "Sae brought you some soup. I made you some tea and there's some toast too."

"I can't eat."

"You have to eat something, Katniss. You've hardly touched a thing in three days." He sat on the edge of the bed and placed the tray over my lap. "At least have the toast and tea."

I nodded, but I couldn't do it. I could feel the tears building up in my eyes. I was losing it. _Maybe I should just go and face him and get it over with_. This waiting was hell. Yet I was unmoving. Peeta lifted up the toast and made me take a few bites, then held the cup of tea up to my lips. The second knock of the night would not be Greasy Sae.

"I'll get it." Peeta took the tray and walked downstairs. I could hear their voices, but not their words. Eventually it got louder and then there was a slam. Peeta's door no doubt.

When Peeta came back into the room I didn't have to ask him what happened. I could see the defeatist look in his eyes. "You need to come downstairs, Katniss."

"Is he there?"

"No. He's outside."

"Why's he outside? Do I have to go outside?" It wasn't 8:00pm yet.

"No you don't. You can stay in here, but until you tell me differently, he's not invited into my home."

For some reason this statement from Peeta made me proud. It gave me confidence. Peeta had provided a sanctuary for me.

"We can get through this…" I took his hand, "together."

We walked down the stairs hand in hand and headed towards his front door. When Peeta opened it up, Gale stood on the other side of it. He was dressed nicely. Too nicely for someone that was moving. I glanced up and noticed that he wasn't doing the moving. He'd hired some of the local men to do it.

Gale looked at me with a familiar boyish grin and said, "Hey there, Catnip."

* * *

Find me on tumblr. I'm **jamiesommers23** or if you're into Joshifer feel free to follow **joshiferrecs** for a wide assortment of fics.


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